


Agnus Dei

by Horong



Series: Sachael In Purgatory [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil 5 - Fandom, Silent Hill: Homecoming
Genre: Angst, Crossover Pairings, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mystery, Mystery Character(s), Paranormal, Psychological Horror, Supernatural Elements, Suspense, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:56:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horong/pseuds/Horong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just weeks after defeating Wesker, the same threat that hit Kijuju has hit the United States of America from the south of the country with a big blow. As agents in the B.S.A.A. North American branch, Chris Redfield and his newly recovered partner Jill Valentine have to respond immediately to a minor case in a secluded town in the north-east of the country before it gets out of hand. This mission will shake Chris's soul like never before, which he did not realize was the same the other way round.</p><p>Chris Redfield lives with bio-terrorism & fights it with a strong sense of righteousness. But soon he encounters a new level of justice where suffering that he could conceptualise is only the tip of the iceberg......</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sachael

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All respective characters unless created by own are property of Capcom or Konami, used on basis of fanwork.
> 
> WARNING: Do not read on if you are appalled by possible depiction on themes of death, depression and explicit abnormal sexual behaviour ('Possible' as this is currently a work-in-progress). Read at your own risk.
> 
> Rating - Mature. Genres: Mystery, Angst, Supernatural, Suspense, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Romance and Tragedy.
> 
> Work may be editted in any point in time, but notifications will be given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, if you're looking for some kind of quick smut, you won't find it here. In fact, you'll need a LOT of patience dealing with this story. If you have neither requirement, I suggest you to leave for this may REALLY annoy you to death!! D:

Finally. They’ve arrived in the town where they were called to. “Shelley Valley”, one big word above the other adorned the worn tile-plated welcoming sign.

Chris had to chuckle. He wasn’t the comedic type, but that was one awful wordplay, and a really funny name to give to a place.

“Well, I guess the celebration over Wesker’s is over. There’s still the party to clean up.”

Chris turned his head to Jill, eyes looking straight into his, acknowleding the remark his most trusted partner just made.

“Yeah…I guess…”

He couldn’t believe that just weeks after Wesker’s death, the test grounds they fought in and around Kijuju were happening in here – America. The land of the free. The home of the brave.

His homeland.

After what they identified as a major source of the bio-terrorism problem – Albert Wesker, was defeated at the volcano, Chris dismayed that it was more like killing of the beastmaster and letting his beasts loose than culling the underlings by killing the alpha. It almost seem like a sudden outbreak just exploded out of the woodworks after Wesker died... _Almost like them lashing out in their desperate last throes....._ Chris thought. He only hoped that it's the case, because the image of more bio-abominations from Kijuju rampaging in America didn't sit well in his stomach. For some reason, for some weird reason though, everything that was supposed to have ended in Africa were now down in Florida and the southern regions of his country. It wouldn't be difficult to imagine some infected person docking or flying into Florida, even the thought alone is threatening to really bog him down.

He really had enough of this. He really did. After Wesker died it was supposed to be the end of everything. 

Then another case of B.O.W. hits his radar again. Deep down inside he had known that 

Then another case. And another case.

And the car stopped.

Chris took 2 of his duffel bags and exited the vehicle. Jill's eyes met his own, and they nodded to each other without a word. It wouldn't be a stretch to think that Jill had the same thoughts as he did when he was in the car. Just home from Africa, and immediately the same shit. Chris heaved a sigh and almost coughed from how unexpectedly cool and the air was.

Good thing they're here to nip the bud before it spreads. Hopefully.

Taking their bags with them, they entered the motel or an inn pre-booked for them. The place didn’t have any name or sign or brand or anything of that matter to show its affiliation or the place’s function. Another thing about that inn that was unique: It had a lot of blue roses on its flower plots. He wasn’t even sure if he ever saw blue roses, but it was quite intriguing.

“Hey,” greeted a twenty-something young man lightly. Chris almost didn't notice him behind the brown wooden counter he was standing at, wearing a rather dull beige coat that complimented the brown wooden counter he was standing behind, if not camouflaged by it. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Chris for whatever reason decided to look upon the other’s features. Something about the man really caught his eye. He couldn’t really tell what was going through his head at the moment. He turned to look at Jill and was surprised to see that Jill was pinching her chin, also scanning the man up and down. The observed subject realized what they were doing and looked away and shifted but appeared not to be too uncomfortable.

“He kinds of remind me of something..." Jill glanced to her partner and back to the man again, face brightening and she slapped her fist on her palm when the thought came together. “I got it! I think that’s it. He looks... so much like you when you're younger! Don’t you think so, Chris?”

The moment the younger man heard it, his eyes immediately widened at the sight of Chris’s large biceps, obviously disagreeing at the stark difference between them in that part. The younger man's hilarious facial expression immediately drew a loud, hearty laugh from Chris, who scratched his head in embarrassment as he did so.

“Come on, don’t make a face like that!” Chris laughed while trying to avoid the resulting awkwardness by looking at Jill. "Like, yeah, he reminds me a lot of myself when I was younger, but why'd bring that up all of a sudden?"

"Well, come on now. We just came back to our country after such a long time. Old time's sake?" She spared him a quick look and went on to tease the younger man with a playful alluring gaze. “Well, if there's a difference, he’s more gorgeous than you.”

“Hey!” Chris bumped Jill lightly in the shoulder and chuckled while Jill mouthed "just kidding" back and forth the two males.

Before Chris could make his case, a door opened and a voice called for their attention.

“Welcome to the Shelley’s Inn, people. You must be Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine?”

“Yes, sir. You must be the one who requested our aid?” Chris held out his hand to the mature black man who greeted them.

“Yes, thanks for coming,” the older man shook their hands firmly. “Name’s Wheeler. Deputy Sherriff round this region. Never thought that I’d be requesting from the _government_ for this, but you two look honest enough.”

Jill and Chris turned to look at each other, confused. “Ahh forget it. It’ll take forever to explain these things, and even harder to convince you. So let’s get to business then, ’cause this is serious. Or it’s going be. At least you’ve arrived fast enough and I thank you for that.”

“We’re from the North American branch of the B.S.A.A. It’s only natural we arrive speedily in a northern region sir, we’re sorry for the numbers though. But I assure you it’s enough to handle the task at hand,” Chris replied.

“No, don’t worry about it; it’s perfect,” said Wheeler. “This few people are perfect to avoid suspicion....and panic of the townsfolk. Town's small. Everyone knows everyone 'round here. 'cept for those nature tourists, so you might just fit well in.”

“In the report you said you were sure that it was the Las Plagas?” Jill questioned.

“Damn sure, ma'am,” the deputy shook his head, talking quickly. “Never seen anything like it. I mean, I’ve seen a lot of monsters in my life but not such as this. They were so...human!”

“Now you know what we’re up against. How did you find out they were monsters?” Chris asked.

Motioning his head to the man at the counter, he said: “Happened about more than a week ago. My boy at the counter right there shot this man who was grappling me. Headshot and the brains busted. A freaking four-leaf clover of flesh popped out of the neck shrieking like a banshee! And then the whole body... just disintegrated into thin air! Shiiit. And just when I thought for once I could collect evidence! If anything lasted from that encounter it's that fucken' smell when it disappeared into thin air! God, smelled like...acid... and a rotting rat. Gosh.”

Chris nodded. “Then it is confirmed then. Glad some Americans are paying attention to what we’re doing to know it for what it is.”

“Hey, that’s just me. I’m not a person to trust widely spread news. You can't really blame the people anyway. The government's always hidin' shit so that's why your work is unheard of. I bet the government has something to do with these... bioweapons, but I digress. Let’s hope that this trait that got me called a conspiracy theorist and a nut would help save this town…or the neighboring one, anyway.”

“Did you encounter only one? And that's the one that was in the neighboring town you told us about, right?”

“Yes, soldier. But I’m paranoid enough with only one. If they’re all in the southern parts of this country, what’s a zombie doing far up in the north-east here in Maine? Sounds like either the south is a diversion or someone’s taking the opportunity of the chaos to brew something up here.”

"Or it could just be a tourist." Jill added.

"Or it could just be a tourist." Wheeler smiled. "Well let's hope that smart heads of yours is enough to let you figure out what the fuck is goin' on around here."

The Deputy went to the desk to pour himself a mug of coffee. He gestured to the two agents with his mug and they both declined. "And this is why I called you here. Again, I'm surprised you showed up for something so small such as this. Then again, nip it at the bud than let it fester, right? Or was that how the saying goes?"

Jill and Wheeler exchanged information anxiously. It was certain that he’ll have to find out if there’s more. And if there were more of these infected, Chris had to stay longer to find out why, and where. Meanwhile, he was distracted by the counter guy looking pretty uncomfortable at how he's being talked about, even though he is the hero of the story.

“Hey, you okay?”

When he heard no response, Chris put his hand on the man behind the counter who has been quiet for the duration of the conversation. The man snapped from what seemed to be a daze at the touch of his shoulder.

“H-huh? I’m sorry.”

“You alright?” Chris asked. He raised his arm to give another reassuring pat on his shoulder again, but brushed against metal dangling on the man's neck as he did so. "Shot the assailant, huh. Not bad at all. You- oh, you're a soldier??"

“Oh, him,” Deputy Wheeler’s voice grew softer. “Sorry, you two. He’s had it pretty hard.” He cleared his throat. “Come on, let’s go to the office to discuss the case. And hey, Alex.”

“Yeah?”

“You should go rest now. You’ve even prepared their rooms so I don’t see the reason for you to stay up.”

The man named Alex nodded lightly. “Alright,” He turned to face the visitors. “If you need any help though-” He stopped at these words when this Alex guy's sight landed on Chris. Immediately redirecting his focus on Jill, he continued: “I mean, if there’s anything, I’ll be in Room 602-”

“Alright already, boy! Get up there already! Haven’t you done enough?” Wheeler shooed.

“Okay okay.” Alex popped up the stairs like a child escaping playfully from his spanking. “Goodnight, Deputy…and thanks. You know, for everything.”

“It’s Wheeler! Now go sleep already, boy!” The Deputy put his hands on his hips. The slightly startled man scurried up the stairs. Jill snorted with the small chuckle she tried to hold in. “He’s just too adorable.”

Deputy Wheeler shook his head and chuckled with a mix of satisfaction and frustration. “Let’s go to the office.”

Upon entering the room, Jill commented with curiosity at her lingering thought: “Seriously?” Alex? Going to the sixth floor? By the stairs?”

Chris came into realization of Jill’s observation. “Hey, you’re right. He’s going to walk all six floors? Isn’t the elevator in the lobby working?”

“Trust me, the elevators work just fine. Older style than the city, maybe, but works good. You won’t need them much since you live in the second floor. Hah, but that boy just has this fear of riding them elevators.” Deputy Wheeler shook his head. “Wonder what’s wrong. There, please make yourselves comfortable.”

“I mean, sorry for being nosy and out of topic Deputy, but…” Jill said as they all sat on the sofas. “Is he really alright? I mean…he looked really…how do I put it…”

“Sad?” Chris suggested. Jill turned to look at him and shrugged: "I'd say he was twitchy."

“I just touched him on the shoulder, Jill.” Chris made his statement matter-of-factly.

“Well, he _did_ shoot a man in the head after all, and given that no one could have known about how an infested person dies, the poor man must still be in shock..."

"And he's still a soldier, discharged or not."

"That doesn't mean he can't be shell-shocked just like anyone else! The way that Plagas die are also quite... shocking for those who have never seen it, don't you think?" Jill replied wide-eyed, mildly surprised at Chris' sudden indifference. "Wait. How do you know that?"

"Know what?"

"Soldier."

"Dog tags. And I didn't try to say that he can't be scared because- argh forget it."

Deputy Wheeler made himself comfortable on his recliner at the bickering pair, and gestured the agents to sit down. “Well, I have to apologize to you both on that. As I said, he was the one who shot the guy to save my ass, and this decapitated guy's neck shrieked. He’s still kinda shocked from that. To be fair, I'd be pretty freaked out too if not for me having quite the imagination. So I think I can still take it. Poor young man probably could not. I won't blame your partner too much, ma'am. He is, after all, an expert on bio-organic warfare, while this boy is not. You'll have to give us a bit of time to ah... get used to these... _things_.” 

“And as I said, he has more gorgeous looks than you,” Jill again teased by eyeing Chris with a smirk for a split second and asking the Deputy a question before Chris could emerge from his ongoing thoughts to protest: “He’s not bad, Deputy. What’s his name?"

“Just call me Wheeler if you want to. There’s no need to be so formal.” The man lighted a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and breathed out the smoke like a heavy burden, concealing a huge sigh. Chris couldn’t help but feel that he could respect the police officer not only as a man on faithful duty, but also as a human being. He could tell that the African-American genuinely cared for the counter guy. And that counter guy…Alex, was it? Him? Well…he just looked…

…sad. Uneasy, maybe. Well, maybe ‘tired’. No. The way this young man who reminded him so much of himself when he was younger feels a bit uncanny and frankly, uncomfortable to him. Some things simply can't be described by words. Either way, he didn’t look very spirited. No biggie there. He just shot a man dead and witnessed a monster popping out right in front of him, after all. But for a man that young, the way he was looking straight ahead into the void...... It was like the shooting incident was long reconciled and done with... and he was thinking about something else. Hmm- no. Trauma and shock is one thing, but......

Nobody this young should be this...... old. 

The Deputy let out another sigh; this time more of relief from the cigarette, as he put it down. “That fine young man,” Wheeler finally responded as Jill and Chris sat quietly with interest. “Is Alex Shepherd. And he’s joining us in our operation."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Fanwork' indeed. Truth be told, I'm embarrassed that I have written this. Yes. Embarrassed. Not because anyone forced me to, but it is on what my mind has come down to and the twisted way it thinks. So if anyone at all who had anything to do with the development of the games, I apologize first-hand that I have defiled your masterpieces. Hontou ni Gomenasai! m(_ _)m - Please note that the story may be editted anytime if I find it unsatisfactory or lacking, which notifications would be given, of course.
> 
> Well, for the others, read on, I guess. It's damn long and I appreciate your attention and comments if you'll have them.


	2. Confessions - Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All respective characters unless created by own are property of Capcom or Konami, used on basis of fanwork.
> 
> WARNING: Do not read on if you are appalled by possible depiction on themes of death, depression and explicit abnormal sexual behaviour ('Possible' as this is currently a work-in-progress). Read at your own risk.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this. Thanks for reading.

“He’s joining us for the investigation? I guess that’s fine,” Jill agreed.

“No, he can’t.”

The sudden contradicting comment was followed by a dead silence and startled looks were directed to the culprit. Chris was seen covering his mouth after his quick interjection.

Wheeler decided to break the ice. “That’s interesting, Chris. Why do you think that?”

“Er…Well…” _Oh crap, I can’t believe I let loose something like that_. Chris stuttered: “He doesn’t seem so…so sure of himself?”

“Well, I’m sure he looks gentle, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s. Not. Tough!” Jill reached across the single sofa to the other to elbow Chris in the arm, making sure that the last words, although hushed; were sharp and clear. With a slight hiss of pain, Chris got the point and immediately apologized. “Sorry, sir. I’m not trying to be rude or anything.”

“Um, yeah. Besides, since the Deputy has recommended Alex himself so I reckon that he’s capable,” Another nudge with the elbow. “ _Right_ , Chris?”

“Well, I hope you’re right,” Wheeler smiled. “And I hope my judgement is right on this. Alex has gone through life-and-death situations. He fights good. He’s got his father’s soldier genes alright. Besides, that boy’s volunteered to help.”

“He volunteered?” Chris’s lips unconsciously let loose the question, although he was more interested on Alex’s military past.

“Yup. Even asked him again and again if he was sure.” Wheeler crossed his fingers, deep in almost a nostalgic contemplation. “I have to mention another thing; I’ve grown to love the kid like my own. I’ll dare not forsake this wish.”

“This wish?” Jill asked. “Why this? What’s so special about this mission that he wants to join so much?”

Wheeler let out a slight sigh. “Maybe he wants to make up for something? Anyone who acts like that must be. But I’ll say it again. That kid’s gone through much. But then someone’s gonna interrogate him for details, B.S.A.A. style! No one tells me nothing.” The two agents laughed.

As Jill and Wheeler chatted the night away, Chris, who occasionally smiled with their jokes, was deep in thought.

‘Humble’ would be the word. Jill was spot-on when she said ‘gentle’, because that man seemed very peace-loving. But it has also been some time since he’s seen another soldier having such low morale….or self-esteem for that matter; he could tell by his body language. For a soldier there is little use for words in battle. All a soldier needs is a comrade like Jill. A grunt, a nod, a wave was enough to mean even life and death; having Jill understanding almost every signal he puts out makes her the perfect partner for any mission. To Chris, it was like having found the Holy Grail…whatever people say that is. It’s more than body language – it is that special frequency that connects two people, and there is no need for reason to know how it works; no one even knows _how_ it works. Glancing over to Jill, he was glad that he had her. He’s even gladder that she’s alive and well, albeit her lighter skin tone, eye colour and hair shade.

Seeing her changed appearance was enough to motivate Chris to another level – Nothing would hurt his companions anymore; he would make sure of that personally. That’s one of the main reasons he came to this region rather than the southern outbreak where the major action was going on; it was because Jill insisted to come, and Chris felt obliged to follow her instead. No. He wasn’t going to lose her again.

“Chris?”

Chris turned to look at Jill. “Chris you seemed pretty serious there.”

It was then that he realized that he had furrowed his brows so hard and so long that they hurt. He also became aware of the embarrassing position he was in: sitting with his head rested on his fisted hand like a statue or two that he remembered seeing in his travels around the country, not that he was doing otherwise anyway.

“Sorry, Deputy Wheeler. Just…uh- thinking about the mission.” Oh great. He was being rude yet again. If he could right then and there, he would have slapped his hands against his cheeks. _I need to focus_ , Chris thought. “Oh shit!” Wheeler slapped his palms together. “We’ve talked for so long that I forgot to fill you in on the details!”

“It’s okay,” Jill assured. “It’s an investigation anyway so the real information comes then.”

“You’re quite right there, but still…” Wheeler shrugged in embarrassment. “You know what, I’m being damn rude for keeping you awake talking about nothing in particular; you must be tired. Here are your keys. I’ll brief you tomorrow when we leave at nine sharp. So be sure to come down for breakfast at eight.”

“Thanks,” Jill stood up and took the keys, marked 205 and 207. “The pleasure’s all ours. Goodnight.”

“What’s wrong with Room 206?” Chris looked over Jill’s shoulder at the keys. Jill elbowed him lightly. “Oof!”

“What’s with one room apart being a problem? Scared that I’ll be waking you up from nightmares slower because of the extra running distance of one more room?”

“Oh come on,” Chris chuckled. Deputy Wheeler explained: “Because we’ll be doing this together, we’ll live closer to each other. Alex used to live in 206, but he’s been living upstairs for the psychologist at the sixth floor.”

“Why can’t he just come down?” Jill asked.

“Oh, that guy has a daughter. She loves a high view.” Wheeler scratched his neck. “So what can I do? Alex should just get over himself and take the elevator. He’s just lucky that this inn has only six floors.”

“I see,” said Chris, trying hard not to show any empathic expression on the information he had just attained. “Goodnight, Deputy. See you tomorrow.”

The police officer nodded. The two turned to leave the office and rode the elevator to the second floor with their heavy bags. They both bid each other a quick goodnight and went into their rooms.

Chris entered Room 207 and heaved a big sigh, plopping down the bed with a big human T. In his head he was grumbling.

No wonder he didn’t seem normal to him - It’s because he just wasn’t normal. A psychologist!? Great guns, and now he’s going to join them!?

_You must be kidding me…_

Low self esteem is bad enough. A mentally ill nutjob? One like that can NEVER go to the battlefield. But how could he have objected after everything was settled and having the Deputy pouring his heart out on allowing Alex to join? The night in the office was more of the Deputy’s P.R. work for Alex’s membership than of the mission briefing. It was so obvious that he let the psychologist information slip out the last so that they would be less likely to pay attention to Alex’s state of mind. After all, the mission’s more important, right?

 _Hmph, won’t work on me buddy. Not on me._ Chris thought. _That man was smart, I’ll give him that._

Yes: truth be told Chris was angry. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to hate Wheeler for that.

But with Wesker’s death, things should die down after the outbreak is defeated, like rampaging beasts without their master’s orders…It shouldn’t be that hard. And he’d agree with Wheeler. People that went through something enough to volunteer for a dangerous mission is surely trying make up for something…whatever that might be. But more importantly, maybe it’s _this_ kind of people would be very efficient fighters because they don’t care about their lives. It’s a very grim and even a cruel thing to think of, but maybe letting Alex join wouldn’t be so bad.

Maybe he could allow this…

…just this once.

_Man, I’ve really gotten so much softer since Wesker’s death…_

As his eyelids gave away to sleep, Chris couldn’t help but turn his head sideways where his nose almost nudged the bed sheets. He inhaled deeply that new smell that he so loved before allowing his body to relax.

_That’s nice. Smells like fresh-misted water in the dawning sun._

_…whatever that means._

With a smile, Chris Redfield slept deeply like he hadn’t in a long time.

 

*************

 

“Alright Alex,” A surprisingly calm voice unbefitting the atmosphere called for his name. “Alex. Now Alex, listen to me.”

“I-I am, sir,” a shivering voice responded.

“No, you are not, Alex. You are only telling me what you think I want to hear,” a palm touched the cheek and proceeded to wipe the sweaty forehead.

“Uh…” Alex’s closed eyes shuddered where the fingers brushed past them.

“Alex. Stop trying to be brave. Alex. Alex – listen to me. Don’t. Be. Brave. Urgh…how do I pound this into you...,” Looking down at his shivering subject, the man shuffled up and down beside the horizontal chair where Alex was laying on.

“Alex. Alex. Come back to me, Alex. Alex,” the voice was still very calm, but with tension. “Alex. Tell me if you are strong enough to do this.”

Taking in short breaths, Alex’s response sounded like a combination of a gurgle and a grunt of confirmation. The other man nodded in affirmation and walked to a wooden chair a distance away, where he sat himself down with a creak.

“Alright, breathe in as long as you need,” The subject tried to do as told, and started to calm down. After a few minutes, Alex let out something between an exhalation of breath and a moan.

“Alright,” Holding up a piece of paper, knowing perfectly well that Alex had his eyes closed and the room, dark. He continued: “You drew this. You have explained well your sorrows and worries, your grief and your guilt. Now tell me: What is his name?”

“…”

The one sitting on the chair waited patiently for a comprehensible response.

“Not…”

“It’s…everyone. Why? It’s him…Not me…It’s her. Guilty too. It’s not me…? Maybe. Perhaps,” Alex’s head thrashed lightly from the left side to the right. “It’s……me…? OH God!...”

“Alex, stay with me, Alex.”

“Oh God it’s dead – OH MY- FUCK no - IT’S ALIVE!!...Of course it is…No, no, no, no, it’s not moving! No…wait…No…stop…!” Alex’s frantic expressions turned to desperate pleadings. “No…”

“No……”

“……”

 

 “Alex.”

“…”

“Why do you describe it that way? Because it is a…?”

“…Schism.”

“Alright Alex,” satisfaction was heard in the voice. “You have done well.”

“…no…I have…not…” taking shallower breaths, Alex’s answer quivered once more. “…I’m sorry, sir! I…!”

“Alex, I need you to come back,” the tone of voice was firm as ever. But Alex’s torso started to rise from its rest again. “Alex, Alex; I need you to come back. Now.”

As Alex’s brows begin to furrow, the voice that guided him became louder.

“Now Alex, as I count down to one, you **will** come out of everything you are in.”

“Three!!”

Alex’s body began jerking, his breaths getting shorter and laboured.

“Two.”

Alex’s fingers flew off its grip as if reacting to the number. It was then the arms realized that they were strapped in place and they began to claw about and struggle. His mouth opened to scream but only a frantic breathless voice barely escaped his locked throat.

“…one.”

Then everything stopped.

 

Only laboured breathing and the ticking of a clock beside the seated figure echoed in the dark room.

After what seemed like ten minutes, the man sighed, got up and went towards Alex, whose respiration rate had returned to normal.

Hands reached out to unwind Alex’s fingers, which are still digging into the handrests for dear life.

“I find you…very intriguing, Alex…”

The lying figure shuddered to the name.

“…very intriguing indeed.”


	3. Uncertainty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All respective characters unless created by own are property of Capcom or Konami, used on basis of fanwork.
> 
> WARNING: Do not read on if you are appalled by possible depiction on themes of death, depression and explicit abnormal sexual behaviour ('Possible' as this is currently a work-in-progress). Read at your own risk.
> 
> Work may be editted in any point in time, but notifications will be given.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this. Thanks for reading.

“Good morning, this is your wake up call. It is now 8 o’ clock.”

“Graaaaahh!” Chris yawned and stretched his limbs. That hit the spot.

Chris should thank that bulky old-fashioned air conditioner that misted the room like mountain air. Also the covers that were freshly cleaned. He also appreciated how the room had a washing machine that washes and dries. It was like a mini apartment, with everything available for a comfortable living.

Chris changed his clothes, finishing by throwing on the light-coloured jacket that he wore to Africa. After all, the summer here is as good as Africa’s glaring sun. Finally, he pocketed his custom Beretta 92F/FS into the coat; he got pockets sewn into his favourite clothing. _No more other guys preparing weapons for us_ , Chris mused as the scene of Reynard Fisher’s execution flashed before his eyes yet another time. Of course being in a field like this guarantees a certain percentage of death, but he couldn’t help but recall the sadness and the pain that it brings when it happens. And not forgetting to mention the time period where he lost Jill…

Chris closed the door to his room and locked it. The lobby’s dining hall was alive with people having their breakfast. Chris looked around and saw a table where Wheeler and Alex were. It was obvious; Wheeler had his smart police uniform on and Alex still wore the old military jacket from yesterday. They noticed Chris and Wheeler waved Chris over. Chris waved back, but most of his attention was on Alex who looked away after they locked eyes for a fraction of a second. The man had tried to make it look natural when he did that, like looking around the hall and outside the window, but it got more awkward the more he did it. The moment Chris sat down, Alex did the opposite and went over to the wooden buffet table to get something to eat. The man doesn't look at him much, but he'll be damned if he doesn't admit Alex's every move seem to stand out so much, like a jittery rookie criminal. Alex came back with a plate of roasted meat slices and a variety of mini-vegetables, and it surprised Chris that a backwater area such as this seemed to have better breakfasts than city hotels.

“Morning, soldier!” Chris saluted lightheartedly. Alex gave him a look that could only be described as surprised. A little boy cheered and saluted at the greeting Chris gave. A few people giggled and laughed while others looked upon the little spectacle.

Wait. Wasn’t Alex a soldier anyway? Wheeler said something about that yesterday. While Alex's reaction was simply weird to him, he did felt a bit sorry when he saw Alex hanging his head down ever so slightly in embarrassment, hands reaching for the cutlery. _Eh, people come in all types, shapes and sizes, I suppose. Even soldiers._

A slap to the shoulder made Chris jump right back into reality.

“Whoa!” It was Jill. “I never knew you would be startled like that! Sorry.” She sat herself down, looked around, and asked: “Why the awkward silence?”

“I don’t know,” Wheeler laughed. “But they’re fun to watch!”

“Chris, come now,” Jill glanced from Chris to Alex, then back again. “Get that look out of your face. You’re being weird.” Chris balked, almost playfully at her: "That's the look of a soldier who needs to fill himself with something.

“Right,” Jill made sure to drag the vowel, and Wheeler chuckled to fill in the void.

“Let’s get to business. AFTER we eat. You should take what Alex is eating right now. It's good.” It was then Alex held his fork and knife up to begin to dig in. 

 

*************

 

“That meatloaf was amazing!” Jill praised while they exited the inn.

“It wasn’t that great…”

“Not so great for the one who ate dozens of them.”

“Hey, cut that out Jill! My size screams my need for calories!”

“Yeah right. But all you need is more steroids.”

“Heeey!”

Wheeler laughed along as the B.S.A.A. agents kept teasing each other. Alex on the other hand was dead quiet.

“What’s the matter, Alex?” asked Wheeler, still half-wheezing from his laughter earlier.

“Nothing, Wheeler. It’s just…the doctor told me not to do anything psychologically- I mean the doctor told me not do anything today. I think I’m just about to disobey that order.” Alex looked really worried.

“Bullshit!” Wheeler swung his arm over Alex’s shoulder. “If he knew what we went through together, I’d bet that man would piss his undies like a coward! Trust me, kid. 'kay? You know this better than I do.”

Alex hesitated, but looked up at the Deputy with appreciation only both of them can comprehend: “…alright, Wheeler……Thanks.”

The group went ahead to Wheeler’s police car. Wheeler waved to the Chief Sheriff and drove on to their destination: Blake’s Lake, to which Chris let out a whisper of " _Seriously??_ " on the cheesy rhyme.

“Either the towns around here have people with a terrible sense of humor or this is just some awfully unfunny coincidence,” Chris remarked. “Well, coincidence or not, at least its name is justified.” Wheeler, who just got out of his car pointed at a beautiful and calm lake. “That, my friend, is Toluca Lake. An attraction to many tourists. Many towns are built beside it. And this town’s founder happens to be surnamed Blake.”  

Jill gasped and sighed at the sight. Despite the sun dimmed by the clouds, this was one of the cleanest waters she had ever seen. Indeed it was a beautiful work of nature. The smell of cool water in the air could just melt all tension away. This was a place too peaceful and beautiful to be destroyed. Too bad there is a case of Las Plagas in this paradise-like place. It’s just too unfortunate that it had to be here. Chris couldn't help but lament at this possible predicament.

"And this town, folks, is where everything happened." Wheeler said absentmindedly while looking out to the beautiful lake.

Their host repeated what he told them before: It was in Blake’s Lake that Deputy Wheeler encountered a man who attacked him furiously with an axe and a gun. Alex who was with him that day had to shoot him when the man shouted incoherent things while almost opening fire point-blank range into the Deputy’s head. It was fortunate that Wheeler knew about the Las Plagas through his research on not-so-popular news, and Jill who was alert to brewing trouble and came to Maine before Sherlock Holmes can say “A-hah!”.

 _Guess all the Umbrella conspiracy rubbed into her_. Chris took in a deep breath and exhaled it with satisfaction. The air was good. Very good. He just hoped that Jill’s instincts or the possible Las Plagas outbreak here will not come true. Not that he wished for an outbreak in this nice little town, but hope for the best and work for the rest, he’d always say. Besides, if it turned out to be no epidemic in the place, Chris would immediately respond to the outbreak in the country’s southern region.

So now their mission briefing was to go to this (yet another) weirdly named town to investigate what’s going on here – if that was the only one infected or is there more that they have to…exterminate.

 _Killing my fellow countrymen…I’ve never thought of this._ Chris mused sadly as he felt his gun in his jacket pocket. He had blew off giant B.O.W.s into smithereens, blasted zombies’ brains open, and even killed living people; although infected and not themselves anymore, they looked so human. But Chris had never imagined shooting a charging American in the face, or if the outbreak would even reach America for that matter.

But deep down, Chris knew…if there's one Majini……

……even if there were no others around, one zombie suddenly popping up in a town at the northern part of the country is enough to set the worry meter up high – Why was it there in the first place? They may have come from the south to this area. After all, Type 2 Plaga-infested people _do_ exhibit intelligence.

“Let’s ask around then,” Wheeler started. “I’ll ask this town’s sheriff personally to see if they’re strange going-ons. Alex will show you around.”

Chris nodded: “Of course. Let’s get started then.”

The deputy shrugged: “You know, I need to thank you again. I can’t do this alone and the other people don’t believe me enough to help me.”

“Trust me, we understand. And thanks to the complications on our side, the people don’t trust us that much either.” Jill clamped her palms together. “Alright, let’s do this! Good luck and stay safe.”

“Yeah, good luck y’all” Wheeler bid goodbye.

“…so, you’re going to show us around?” Chris turned to Alex.

“…Yeah, maybe I should take you where it all happened,” Alex immediately motioned his head to the direction of the playground as he answered.

 _He’s avoiding eye contact with me…what’s with him?_ Chris could not decide if he was more annoyed or suspicious at Alex’s continuous behavior towards him or at how Jill seemed to grow fond of this guy with that kind of attitude in such a short time.


	4. Chased

Alex started walking away from the police station. The agents followed. “This town is founded by someone who hates…” Alex paused for a while to think. “…colour-bullying.” “Colour-bullying?” Jill tittered while Alex became red in embarrassment.

“Um…you know, like…bullying people like Wheeler?”

Jill had to laugh out; Alex genuinely looked like he didn’t know the word. “Racism?” Chris suggested. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I can't seem to remember that word somehow.” Alex immediately looked away, blushing heavily in the ears. Jill let out another loud laugh, making Alex go even redder.

Chris cringed. He stopped dead at his tracks. Something seemed awfully familiar. Alex, for whatever reason, also stopped; looking around him as if he heard something.

“Hey, Alex?”

“…yes?”

“You noticed something too?”

Jill stood silently, looking around at the townsfolk and the town, noticing nothing. “Stop it you two, you’re scaring me. Is something wrong?”

“Shh,” Chris brought his finger to his lips. “It’s quiet…too quiet…”

“You know what? Let’s walk on.” Jill approached Alex cautiously. “Keep the tour going; I think we’re getting to somewhere here.”

“Good idea,” Chris started walking as Alex continued on.

“…this is the Town Hall. It’s built on top of the founder’s grave. The cemetery is just beside the Town Hall. The-” A howl echoed through the sky. “…the founder of this town rejected many common religious beliefs and-” A snarl and bark echoed all around them. “…his views were shocking for his day, and so by building the Town Hall over and beside a cemetery, he mocks the common views on death.”

“Kinda’ complicated,” Chris felt his gun. “But no time to understand it now.”

“I’m not very familiar with this town, but these are the main things, at least. Maybe I should take you to the place where it all happened instead. It's very near the police station actually. Near the forest-”

A muffled scream rang in Chris’ ears. Chris drew his gun with lightning speed and pointed to the voice’s origin - Jill.

“Wha-?” It didn’t take Chris another second to see a kidnapper with a human mask over his head cupping his big covered hands over Jill’s mouth.

“Ha!” The female B.S.A.A. agent elbowed the man and twisted his arm, and locked the now captive captor’s arm behind him while she stood behind him. The pedestrians were alarmed for a second by the sound but went on their business after they couldn’t determine where the sound came from. Jill let out a sigh in relief while the man grunted in pain. “So much for trying to avoid panic.”

“Look buddy, why did you do that?” Alex sounded upset.

“Look, _buddy_ , come with me to the Blake Hotel; there’s no time!!” The man whispered, angry and frantic at the same time.

“Oh yeah? I’ve got time to do this!” Chris proceeded to rip off the disguise. 

“NO!!”

Immediately after Chris took off the mask from his head, it revealed an African-American man who yelled his protest. Without delay, he then hid his face and grabbed Alex roughly by the hand. “Cover me man, cover me,” his voice was as frightened as a man facing his execution.

“Look, we’ll do whatever you want, okay? J-just tell us what’s going on here,” Alex didn’t struggle free, but was very uncomfortable. Before Chris could interrupt, Alex turned to him: “Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I think we need that mask…even if it’s to calm him down.” Chris hesitated, but the explanation seemed reasonable enough. Slowly and cautiously, he handed over the Caucasian mask he snatched earlier to the black man.

Just then a scream sounded. Then another. And then another shriek by a moustached man. A gruff laugh then a woman cheering and shouting without any regard for modesty.

The nightmare Chris Redfield dreaded has come true, only that it was worse; this time he could understand them. Chris hung his whole frame down dispiritedly. No, please, not here. Not in this beautiful town. Not in this part of the country.

_Not in my country._

The whole town charged towards their direction, yelling only one thing:

“NEGRO!!!!!”

 

_Shit? God-damnit? I wonder what I’m going to use to curse._

__Hundreds of good men died under this banner for humanity and people want us gone._ If there’s someone out there, they’d better be laughing; cause’ this is the joke of the century._

 

**_BANG_ **

 

“I’ll make sure the joke’s on you now, not the B.S.A.A!” a smile tugged the end of Chris’s lips as his handgun’s barrel smoked. Tricell’s scheme on global domination made the other funders cease their support and the B.S.A.A. a joke to the common, and mostly, ignorant folk. The shot disabled a running woman’s leg as she fell face-first in the dirt.

“Quick draw as usual,” Jill kicked down her former assailant. Unsheathing her handgun from her thigh strap, she nodded to Chris: “Got you covered, partner”

“As always.” Chris snorted at Jill's remark that he just did not have the time to reply to. “To the nearest building! Let’s move!”

 

*************

 

“Move, move it!!”

“Right!” Alex helped the stunned black man up. “Come on, let’s go!”

Jill ran ahead of the unarmed men, clearing a path by kicking a fat man flat in the face. As their attacks increased, so did the townspeople’s rage by ten-fold. They ran until the mob became a lesser beeline behind them instead of a wall of people with power and numbers. “The nearest building!” Chris directed. “Go!”

“This should do the trick!” Jill threw a flash grenade into the mob and the other two took the opportunity of the confusion to open the door of a house. The agents followed. Alex was ready with a chair to barricade the door. “Good job, soldier.” Chris panted. “T-thanks,” Alex handed Chris another heavy chair to add weight to the resistance they were building.

As effect of the grenade subsided, the crowd slowly but surely started to disperse, losing sights of their targets. In the house, the curtains were drawn and the only natural light source was from the top of the roof high above. In an instant the room became bright. Chris looked around to see the black man earlier turning on a switch which lighted up all the wall lamps in the spacious room.

Alex came up to Jill. “Are you hurt?” Jill, a bit taken aback by Alex’s approach, stood stunned for a few seconds before answering: “Yes, thankyou…” Alex, looking concerned and with admiration at Jill at the same time, answered: “I’m glad. I’ve never seen anyone let alone any woman move like that. That was amazing.” Jill smiled at the compliment. She was also glad to see the look of Alex’s now slightly spirited face.

They were interrupted by a frightened cry from the black man. “Yo, man. Down with the guns, man!” Chris, as alert as ever, was securing the man’s position by pointing his trusty handgun at him. “Alright. I know you’re not one of the infected one out there, but tell me what’s going on.”

“Yo! I’m not talkin’ to you or anyone about anythin’ if you point that sucker at me. I tell you you take that gun and put em’ down, right now!” The man held up his hands in apprehension. Chris, refusing to back down, held his stance.

The room froze in silence. For a time or two, the thump on the locked and barricaded door made them jump; it was the most likely the townsfolk’s less aggressive attempt to look for them.

After what seemed like five minutes later, Alex cautiously approached Chris and pressed Chris’ arm. Chris, jumping a bit, turned to the person who touched him. In the corner of his eye, he saw Alex intently looking at him in the eye.

For the first time, he got an eye contact from the man who just simply refused to look at him. And he did just the opposite for a stranger whose life is (supposedly) threatened.

It was brief, but that’ll do.

With a quick sigh, he lowered his handgun and half-glared at the black man. “So what’s going on here?” The man shrugged at Chris hesitantly. Chris ran out on petty patience. “Look, you got saved by this guy over here because he trusts you. Now tell me what the Hell’s going on here before I run out of patience!”

“Alright,” the black man calmed down. “Look, these past few days have been crazy! I saw you with another black guy comin’ into town. That’s why I had to nab you to talk to you. I’m sorry!”

“Go on,” Jill listened attentively.

“These past few days...I don’t know what’s going on but those whiteys out there are lynching us blacks like crazy!”

Chris, shocked, turned to Alex. “I thought you said this town was exactly opposite of what he said it is…Unless…” Alex turned sharply to the black man.

“Hey, did the citizens have reddish-orange eyes?”

The black man had his mouth gaped open at them like they were totally crazy.

 

Chris and Jill’s heartbeat stopped when the frantic man threw his arms in the air, exclaiming.

“What reddish-orange eyes!?”

 


	5. Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All respective characters unless created by own are property of Capcom or Konami, used on basis of fanwork.
> 
> WARNING: Do not read on if you are appalled by possible depiction on themes of death, depression and explicit abnormal sexual behaviour ('Possible' as this is currently a work-in-progress). Read at your own risk.
> 
> Work may be editted in any point in time, but notifications will be given.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this. Thanks for reading.

“Wha…what did you just say?” Chris’s fiery adrenaline rush dropped dead cold at the black man’s answer.

“What reddish-orange eyes!? You crazy!? And I thought they were crazy enough!”

The man almost shouted in his whispering, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“What…?” Chris froze. He and Jill exchange frantic looks. “We shot living people…?” Jill’s shoulders dropped. Alex was just looking back and forth between them, confused but understanding; he kept his mouth shut.

“Hell, it’s better that they’re killed than later! Ya’ blind!? Didn’t you see what they did, or almost did to us!?” The black man yelled.

“You must be mistaken. They should be the infected.” Chris shuffled back and forth. "They should be."

The main issue is not whether they shot in self-defence; it was more on the realization of another possibility other than the infestation. He was so sure it was Las Plagas-infected people. He was _so_ sure……

“But why are they doing this?” Jill sat on a table, rubbing her temple in despair. "Normal people..."

“Since that stupid guy came to town…Too bad ain’t Santa!” The guy mumbled.

Alex winced at the man’s words. “W-what guy?”

“Well, ask them if you want!” The annoyed man showed Alex the entrance where the mob was looking for them. “All I know is that them strange guys came from outta town demanding to find someone. And when the town couldn’t find em’ them whites started to kill us blacks. It’s those guys’ faults! It must be them tellin’ them folks to kill us! My nana moved here because of the anti-racist thing and there’s no problem until now!”

“You sure their eyes weren’t orange or red in color.” Chris wanted to make sure.

“Damn Hell I’m sure!” The man sounded firm. “But their crazed look is somethin’ I’ll never forget. Never.” The man muttered, shaking his head. “So what’s with this crazy eye colour shit? No one tells me nothin’.”

“Oh God, Wheeler!!” Alex, who came into realization at the Deputy’s familiar catchphrase suddenly jumped from his seat. “NO!” Chris grappled his arms from behind with lightning speed.

“What are you doing!?” The two were slightly surprised when they realized that they had asked the same thing at the same time. “Well, I’m stopping you!” Chris held on even firmly. Alex took hold of Chris’s hands, still trying to break off. “And I’m going to Wheeler! They’re targeting people like Wheeler, right!? Get. Off!”

“Stop it, all of you!!” Jill interrupted with a harsh whisper.

The whole room went quiet. All three men fixed their eyes on Jill. The black man put his hands up in the air again, letting the woman take the lead. Chris still didn’t let go.

“Chris,” Jill sounded collected when saying that, if not sombre. “Let Alex go.”

“What!?” Chris was bewildered. This was the most unacceptable thing he heard her say since the time where she forced him to leave her behind at the Monarch Room to pursue Wesker. “You’re asking me to send him to die!?”

“Alex’s a soldier,” Jill retorted. “He has to get to the Deputy himself if he wishes. We’ll help the survivors get out.”

Chris shrugged.“……”

“......No. I’d trust myself leaving you alone rather than him, but I wouldn’t do it either.”

“Chris…”

“Look,” the black man suggested. “I think it’s suicide for you to go save your friend, but… They only target us blacks. It may be O.K. if you leave unnoticed. I’m just saying _maybe_.”

“And that might just work if he’s not recognized.” Chris moved his hands to Alex’s chest and found what he was looking for.

“H-hey!! What are you doing??” 

Chris had begun undoing Alex’s jacket. “Poor Alex.” Jill had to chuckle at Alex’s reaction.

“Hey, wha-what are you doing?” Alex repeated his question while trying to struggle free. At that point his jacket was already half-stripped and at his arms, making his escaping attempts impossible. “They might’ve recognized us earlier. Your black shirt is strikingly different from your worn brown jacket. It’ll reduce the chances.”

“B-but-, w-wait!” Alex glanced behind him; Chris stopped. “What is it?”

“P-promise you’ll bring it back to me. It’s important…very important to me.”

It was a weird request not befitting the situation, but Chris obliged. “Okay...Just promise you’ll stay safe out there…okay soldier?”

As Alex was out of his jacket, Alex turned around to look at Chris with palpable gratitude in his eyes. “Alright... Thanks.”

What remained was his trusty black T-shirt and his silvery dog tags jingling around his neck. Chris felt the end of his lips tug upwards. Alex looked considerably younger without the weight of the old jacket on his shoulders.

“Yo, man. You’re the craziest guy to go out like that, but good luck, buddy. Stay incognito and stay safe,” the black man said with admiration in his eyes. “You’ve got my respect, bro.”

“Thanks.” Alex nodded, short and sweet, and he stepped to the doors. He removed the makeshift barricade, opening the wooden doors and left the three of them in the living room with a huge creak.

“Phew. Looks like them crazy people are not doin' anythin' now.” The black man sighed with relief at the lack of human noises outside.

“Let’s hope.” Chris crossed his arms while Jill locked the door again.

“You know, Chris…” Jill, with her hands on the doors, glanced at Chris. “I’ve been thinking…”

 

*************

 

 _Finally. A break from the muscle-man._ Alex switched occasionally from walking to quick jogs when no one’s noticing. His mind was thinking very fixedly on one thing:

_Wheeler…_

_You can't be in danger.  
_

_We had a promise together.  
_

_I can't do this without you.  
_

It’s been two years since the surreal experiences in that accursed place. He hadn’t gotten over himself yet; but he must admit that he had a good two years of life in the town. The old town’s descendants decided to come back to the dwindling Valley to make it prosper and Alex, who just got out from his horrid hometown, was given the chance to be the manager of the town’s inn. Wheeler, who was satisfied enough as a Deputy Sherriff after all the events he went through, was granted that position and lived and worked alongside Alex, managing the money for him from time to time as well; never leaving his side, just as Alex did the other way round.

It was an easy job; he didn’t know what he did but the employees of the inn co-operated with him very much, and his manners earned the males’ liking and the females’ interest. He occasionally took a vacation to other towns when there was nothing for him to do. If he was in the inn, all he did was occasionally send the counter guy to do laundry work while he manned the post at the counter and watch the world go by.

It was too unreal. He was in a peaceful existence. People were actually smiling to him without even knowing his name or his past. He couldn’t say he loved the unfamiliar feeling, but he was comfortable.

And just when he thought he was alright again, killing the hostile ‘man’ in Blake’s Lake a week ago reminded him of almost everything – The monsters, the Order members’ atrocities......

…Him shooting the man the same spot he had shot his own mother.

It was at that moment his mind snapped: The excruciating jab in his skull shot in and he dropped on the ground in agony. All he remembered when he woke up back in Shelley’s Inn was Wheeler who told him that he actually screamed and cried for a good while before collapsing. And when he was brought back, the inn's counter-boy reported that Alex won’t stop rolling around and was sweating profusely in bed. Worst of all, Wheeler explained that the man’s neck bursting into a shrieking hunk of flesh was real but they could not prove anything because the corpse disintegrated before the police officer could even think of the word "camera".

Just like Shepherd’s Glen…and……that place. No one could prove anything in those places. All that come out of there are more missing people, more dead people, and only more mysteries than answers. And the answered questions somehow could never be believed or even revealed; as if some sort of looming force was playing a prank.

And Elle…oh, Elle……He thought she was the only one……He didn’t know how marriage works, but since he knew Elle best, it should make the perfect sense to marry her, right? He thought maybe he’ll do that when he’s twenty-five or thirty, and it was then he became conscious of his age: twenty-four. But after the Wheeler told her what happened in Blake’s Lake, Elle disappeared before the day was even over. Just before Alex’s despairing psyche could kill him, Wheeler called in a psychologist that he kept in contact with in fear of the worst. The psychologist came to stay, and would only want to be known as Doctor James to be friendly. And after every session with him, whether he knew consciously what was going on or not, Alex felt better. He felt lighter. He felt that he could live. He felt that he could even do this mission with Wheeler!

If he made out of this alive, he promised himself to thank the doctor personally.

……but not without saving Wheeler first. He shared a bond with Wheeler while fighting together in the cursed place. Staying with him through thick and thin was Wheeler. Helping him with the inn was the Deputy Sherriff himself. And Wheeler was right there all these time having the perfect psychologist candidate in bay to make him feel better.

To any other people, they two might look like any other pair of good friends with an age gap. But behind that normal life, was a bond was stronger than anyone else could imagine. They made promises to each other. Made pledges to each other. Even to the subject matter of death. Death......They faced that, but they needed something just as impactful to block out any residual terror they have encountered in the past, convincing themselves that their promises and pledges were somehow a stronger stir to their soul than fear and sorrow. And yes, they did promise and agreed to a promise of death to each other.

Their trust was just that strong.

_It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have left Wheeler there alone._

Alex, after being told by Dr. James that he was making a rapid progress, insisted that Wheeler bring him to face the horrors of Blake’s Lake again with the agents whom Wheeler called in. He was going to face his fears once and for all, he told himself…until he saw the agents: Jill Valentine and Chris Redfield, whom aroused the familiar whimper in his heart again. Jill Valentine was a beautiful lady as he saw her…but strong, just like Elle, with blonde hair and everything. And the sight of Chris Redfield was the one that would break his very soul.

Just as if looking at an Elle reminder was not enough, whatever powers may be was surely toying with him by adding to the blow with Chris Redfield. The moment he set his sights on the man, it reminded him of his brother Joshua. He had the same hair colour. His face was strong, just like what he imagined Joshua would be if he grew up. He’ll be what Dad was – a true soldier, a grown up muscle-man hero like they’ve promised each other to grow up as. He would have wanted nothing in this world but to see Joshua grow. The boy who was the only person to have ever showed any familial love to him. The strong boy with the gentle face.

Then it was Elle- no, Jill who woke him up from his series of thoughts that he realized that it was not going to happen. Ever. He killed him. With his own hands. Didn’t he?

As he went up the stairs, he just couldn’t look at Chris’s face. He blamed his creative imagination. He blamed his sins. He blamed his existence. But it was no imagination. He had come to terms with his brother’s death but the sight of Chris’s face just sets his eyes on fire…but no tears would ever fall. They have stopped falling a long time ago. The only escape was to focus on Jill. _Just like Elle…a strong woman. A strong woman. A strong woman…_ Sure, Elle’s leaving made him grieve, but it hurt less than Chris Redfield.

The only time he could look Chris in the eye was when he was interrogating the black man with the gun. It was the only time a fuming Chris didn’t seem like an embodiment of a future Joshua. He could see that Chris took the chance to look at him intently, although it was very brief.

He also knew perfectly well that Chris’s eyes had been on him frequently all this while, demanding eye contact, which added to his remorse of Joshua and also his guilt of inevitably treating Chris rather rudely.

_Joshua…Oh Joshua……if there was anything I could do to be with you again…_

“Urgh! Oh God, I’m sorry!” Thinking it was a warm boulder at first (he apologized nevertheless), the absent-minded Alex found that he had bumped into a big man at the corner of a deserted alleyway. The man fell down flat on his bottom.

“Hey, lady!” The angry fat male with a messy beard got up with a push off the ground- and _Whoa,_ he was big. He had no time to muse any further when a big hand pulled his up his shirt collar with such speed that the jerk choked him. The big man took hold of the military tags that came jingling out of his shirt. “Oooh, looks like you’re a real man after all, huh!?” Alex could hardly call it teasing when the brash man in his half-buttoned shirt held him as close as Alex’s body coming into contact with his hairy chest. Alex could feel his disgusting breath against his cheek as he turned his head sideways to avoid the fat guy’s oral stench.

“Shepherd, Adam??” The man read the words on the tags as slow as he was loud. As Alex deemed the man had his fill of him and pushed away from him, the large fingers suddenly tightened around his shirt collar and the other muscular arm swung around Alex’s waist; the big frame easily lifting Alex up and performing a python constriction.

“Wha- A-aaaAAAH!!!”

He did **NOT** expect that.

“Hoho!! I’ve got a grand prize here!!” He tightened his fatty arm again. “I’m gonna become the champiooooooooon!! Yeeeeaaaah!!”

A crack sounded from the man’s grapple.

“Gh-AH HHHHH!!!”

 


	6. Hunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All respective characters unless created by own are property of Capcom or Konami, used on basis of fanwork.
> 
> WARNING: Do not read on if you are appalled by possible depiction on themes of death, depression and explicit abnormal sexual behaviour ('Possible' as this is currently a work-in-progress). Read at your own risk.
> 
> Work may be editted in any point in time, but notifications will be given.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this. Thanks for reading.

“God, how did he run so fast?” Chris, with Alex’s jacket sleeves knotted around his waist, grumbled nervously. He didn’t know what’s going on, but all he knew was that there’s a chance Alex could get into serious trouble. The chances should be lower after he took off Alex’s old jacket which the wearer may be recognized as the one who came into contact with a black man. Chris held on to the jacket. It surely had seen better days; it was an old military jacket with some unwashable oil and ink stains at the chest pocket. _This jacket must mean a lot to him…..._ Alex looking back at him the moment he wrestled his jacket off stayed in his mind. He felt kind of bad for stripping the other of something important to him. But Alex didn’t seem to mind. The Deputy was more important than the clothing item at that moment, and he even took the time to thank him for keeping the jacket for the time being. He’s a good-natured man. But the man did look too much of a softie to be a soldier though…

_The dog tags!_

“Shit!!” Chris swore. That’s just great. The identification that it holds and the striking shine over his black shirt will make recognizing him so much easier. Maybe not so, but it was enough to send a new pang of worry down his stomach.

“Lost sights on a target, brother?” A hunching old man smoking a pipe approached him with his hand on his back. Chris looked into his eyes.

They were bright blue. It- He, was not Las Plagas. “Um…not really. Just thinking of something.” It was the only response he could think of; still trying to come into terms that somehow the virus wasn’t involved here. Chris pulled on the sleeve of Alex’s jacket.

“Really? Grmph…” The old man looked up into the sky. “It’s just too bad that we have to make such choices…but if I were to save someone, I may do the same as these townsfolk too.”

Chris maintained his calm. “I-I don’t understand.”

“I don’t too, don’t you?” The old man exhaled a cloud of smoke. “All they told us was ‘shed the black blood and save the white’. I’m beginning to think that taking the statement literally was the biggest mistake this town could ever make.”

_So that’s what it is…_

Chris dug the information with caution: “So…what do you think it is?”

“Alex Shepherd,” Chris flinched at the sound of the name. The old man smoked on his pipe. “That boy they’re trying to find. They say he caused all the children to die. Think about it, son.” The man tapped his temple, smiling quirkily. “If this Alex Shepherd’s caused all this death like they’ve said then he must be the ‘black blood’ they wanted to shed! Right? They looked like cult members anyway, so they must be talking in riddles! What do you expect from these religious hooligans!?”

“I don’t really understand, sir.” Chris feigned a sad face, although in his mind he was making more of a shocked one. No squeamish news would make him flinch, but good god! The revelation! The revelation of it all! It halted his coherent thinking and almost crashed his composure into pieces.

“So do I, young man. So do I.” The old man exhaled another cloud in the form of a sigh. “But when some guys come to your town, warning you about a plague unless a person is handed over? And your children start to die in horrible ways because you can’t give them what they want? People start to get desperate, only with a set target on radar.” He tapped his walking stick on the ground. “It’s like getting invaded without a cannon fired or a gun shot. I hate this.”

"Yes, sir. I understand what you mean." Chris nodded, that Face of Betrayal flashed through his eyes. _Wesker......_ "I went through it once, and things went downhill after that. We survivors never recovered."

“Of course it does, well, nice to know you're still alive and kickin', ain't it, boy? You'd better leave soon though,” the man smiled. “After killing black people, the children died even more and the whole town went insane. They’ll just go berserk on anyone with an African-American heritage or anyone opposing the killings. Nobody even cares if killing the blacks would work anymore.” Another cloud of smoke. “It’s going down the slippery slope until the whole town’s young people to teenagers to babies are all killed. So take my advice, sonny. Fighting for what's right is good, but staying alive to fight it more at a later time is far better. Just leave while you can?" The grey cloud seemed to disperse slower than usual, as if the foggy breath was the heaviness of the man's heart itself.

_Children!?_

Chris' mouth was practically hanging loose from that news: “I, uh-I-I didn’t know the children died like that......But _how_?”

“Haha, still that single-minded righteous man focusing on the justice, eh? Alright alright. Seems like they hid it from you good too.” He chuckled, then continued. “At first they don’t tell you they died. Then they tell you but not how they died. Let me tell you. Drowned, beheaded, suffocated, buried, you name it. I’ll tell it straight to your face.”

That’s just brutal……Killing _children_? Really? Sound-minded people with a conscience? One or even both of those may be compromised one way or another. But _still_!

Free choice! Free will! How is everything he has believed in and has fought so hard for taken so lightly and thrown out the window just like that?!

Fists clenched and saliva tasted sour. "This......This...is _horrible_.”

"Indeed. But it'll continue on, I'm afraid. Unless they find this Shepherd boy, maybe? But they sure are idiots for demanders I tell you. ‘About twenty-five years old!’ _Pfft!_ As if that description helps anyone or anything! Hah!! How outrageous!!” The man scoffed.

“But how do you know if giving this person up to them would stop all these deaths??”

“I don’t know, boy. The children’s death **are** mysterious. No one knows how they just vanished and turned up dead, not even me. So perhaps it has to take another mysterious remedy to cure that?”

"Oh come on! How does that make any sense at all??" Hopes tumbled down to form laments that unconsciously slipped off his treacherous tongue.

The old man laughed at the anxious look Chris gave. “That was a joke, sonny! Ha! In my opinion?” He tapped Chris’ shoulder and sighed. “Even if giving this Alex up thing is convincing since they’ve said it since before the deaths, I still don’t trust them. Somehow it doesn’t... _feel_ right.”

“Doesn’t feel right…?” Chris repeated.

“Yeah. And the town is stupid to act without knowing the real reason either.” The man stretched. “Well, it’s been a pleasure telling my heart out for once. It’s been so long since I’ve done so. Hope ya’ don’t mind.”

“Of course not, sir.” Chris was pleased with the information he got. Well, not _pleased_ , but satisfied. For now. Trying to be natural, he tried to contribute to the conversation. “I’ve learned a lot from your wisdom. I haven’t got your name?”

“Well? To tell you the truth, I’m too old to even remember! ” He chuckled. “Just call me Phillips. And the fun thing is that it’s my surname! Now isn’t that unusual! So just call me Mr. Phillips in a crowd and I’ll come staggering out! Cause’ it’s a surname! Too...different! Hah!” Elbowing Chris, he laughed: “It's so unique, ain’t it?”

Not really, Chris thought. If it has an ‘s’…

The man walked past Chris unhurriedly with his walking stick. “Don’t you have somewhere to go, sonny?”

Chris jumped. His little ‘chat’ had taken him a damn long time.

“SHIT! Alex!”

 

Shit.

 

Chris turned his head slowly to the back where the man was. The hunching man just stood there, motionless.

_Oh no._

The man turned sharply to look at Chris. Chris’s whole body jerked in shock.

“Whaaat?” The man looked confused and annoyed. He wasn't sure more on which one.

“N-no. Nothing, sir. I’ll just get going now.” Chris started to walk towards the police station in sight as normally as possible. He didn’t want the man to start shouting and inciting another mob. He’d have little chances of not getting into trouble then. His destination never seemed so far away.

“Take my advice, sonny.”

Chris froze at his tracks.

“Believe in miracles.”

“……what?” Alex carelessly whispered his thoughts. That was very uncalled for.

“…and do the right thing.” The voice’s mood then turned lighter as fast as the solemnity went, a hearty chuckle bidding him goodbye:“ God bless you. Hahah!”

“…Yes, sir.” Then it was utter silence. No footsteps, no sound of breathing except for his own, no tapping sound of the walking stick.

_Impossible…_

 

Chris took a sudden turn to the back.

The man was gone. All that remained was a background of the Town Hall. Somehow the bright day had turned into a grey, gloomy one. Since when did that happen…?

“Phillips……” he mouthed. Looking at the direction where the man had gone, Chris started to walk, almost reluctantly, towards the opposite way, eyes not leaving the road and his brain not computing any logic from this. Finally, he turned his attention to his destination. It was still quite far but it was in sight: The very first building directly after the town’s welcome sign – The town’s police station.

The situation looked more and more dire for Alex than it initially appeared to be. _Alex, you must be the most unlucky guy I have ever met._ Chris groaned in his mind.

If miracles exist……Chris earnestly prayed that they do. Because at the very back of his worried mind and from the bottom of his heart, all he wanted was that the black man they have rescued was wrong on only one thing.

 

*************

 

“You want me to do **_what_**?!” Chris turned his back sharply on Jill and started walking back and forth in frustration. Jill kept quiet. She knew what she said would anger him.

“I can hold my own. What happened to me in Spencer’s mansion won’t happen again just like that. Besides,” Jill tapped an anxious Chris twice in the shoulder. “I know you want to.”

Chris stopped and lifted his eyes. “Want to _what_?”

“ _Follow him._ ” Jill blinked at Chris bluntly, as if that was really what he wanted to do.

And she was right. A puzzled Chris arranged his thoughts and found Jill dead on the money yet again. Jill spoke his thoughts for him before he could even understand what he was thinking: “We’ve been partners for so long. We know each other.” She walked towards the doors and turned back to face Chris. “But deep inside, let’s face it: you still can’t bear to leave me alone out in the danger since what happened to me.”

“Jill, I-”

“You know me, Chris.” Jill took hold of one of the doors’ handles. “I think it’s stupid for us to let him leave alone in the first place. I only let him leave first because I don’t want him getting hurt knowing that you’ll insist to stay here. Time was short to look for the Deputy too. Besides, you two won’t listen to me explain in all that intimacy you were in.” 

“Jill…” Chris scratched his neck at her teasing while the black man held back a laugh. 

“You know I can survive and I know you can do the same,” Jill became serious again. “But even when Alex is a soldier, you don’t know anything about him.”

“Yeah…so?” 

“So…” Jill leaned against the doors, crossing her arms, almost sighing at her longtime partner who was just consistently obtuse in these scenarios. “You don't know what his capabilities are, but you know mine. And you know I can more than well handle this alone, but you don't know the same about him. So it’s time for you to just ditch that irrational fear of yours on losing me and follow him.” Chris stared at Jill. She was absolutely correct.

“You know I can take care of myself. If you expect otherwise that's just disrespectful to my professionalism!” Jill chuckled off the seriousness and motioned her head to the exit. “So get out there and realize how wrong you were leaving someone out there like that.”

Chris went red in the face. It took him a few seconds to comprehend that he was very, very ashamed for leaving a civilian out there to fend for himself. Even so Alex was a soldier, Jill was right; Chris never fought alongside Alex and Chris would never have known his capabilities. He’s not even sure if Alex even knew what a B.O.W. was, moreover how to fight one. And when one does not know how to fight a bio-organic weapon, Chris’s confidence on someone defending himself against a normal threat is cut by half. Did Alex even know how to defend himself anyway? He looked so...passive every time Chris saw him. He'd be a goner if he had no gun, and there's to be strictly no shooting in here to prevent panic and hysteria.

Chris shook off the thoughts in his head and slapped his forehead. “Thanks, Jill. And…I’m sorry. But you could have told me that earlier though.”

"In that tussle you were in, would you have listened to me?" Jill raised an eyebrow.

 _Gosh_ , Chris just hated how right Jill was. Again.

“You know what to do.” Jill smiled. “I’ll get the survivors out here if there’s any.”

“Excuse me,” the man who had stayed mostly silent throughout the ordeal finally spoke up. “But that was the most honorable guy I’ve ever seen. Do you by any chance know his full name?” The other two exchanged confused looks for a moment.

“I-I know this sounds kinda cheesy but…” the man shrugged while pocketing his hands in his jeans. “Even if I die later by any chance, at least I want to know the name of the man who in a way saved my life.”

“Shepherd, wasn't it?” Jill asked Chris.

“Yeah. Alex Shepherd.” Chris turned to the man, whose soft expression instantly turned into an utterly horrified face.

“It can’t be…no WAY, man!!” The black man exclaimed while walking back and fro across the room. “No, no. Why him!? No. It can’t be. There MUST be another Shepherd around. No. It’s not a common name ’round these parts…oh shit…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down,” Chris held his hands up to calm the man. “What’s the problem now?”

“Them guys. Them guys.” The man mumbled. He lifted his horror-struck eyes. “Them guys. The guys who started all of this.”

“What? You mean Alex started all this!?” Chris shook the man’s by the shoulders. “Nonono…!” The man massaged his temples, collecting his thoughts. “Them guys. Who started all these rampage? They came to this town yeah?”

“Yes?” Chris replied.

“They came demanding for a person, right?”

“You told us that.” Jill who seconds ago looked only slightly concerned, jumped from shock. “Don’t tell me…please…”

 

“They were comin’ for Alex Shepherd.”


	7. Tortured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All respective characters unless created by own are property of Capcom or Konami, used on basis of fanwork.
> 
> WARNING: Do not read on if you are appalled by possible depiction on themes of death, depression and explicit abnormal sexual behaviour ('Possible' as this is currently a work-in-progress). Read at your own risk.
> 
> Work may be editted in any point in time, but notifications will be given.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this. Thanks for reading.

Jill gasped. One sympathetic expression could be so mercilessly cruel with the statement that followed it:

“They were comin’ for Alex Shepherd.”

_It can’t be true…Oh, no! Alex!_

“Chris!” Jill called.

“Got’cha, partner! I’m moving! Stay safe you two! Contact me when you get out,” Jill made an O.K. sign. Chris left the building in haste.

The room went silent for a while.

“Ya’ know, lady? You have a way with words. Jill for President.”

Jill laughed. “You know what? Put your Caucasian mask back on. Let’s go to this hotel you’re talking about. There’s bound to be some survivors there, right?”

The man smiled as he put on the mask again. “Well, may die later or may not. But won’t hurt to save a few lives. Here; I’ve got a list of survivors here that I rounded up. A lot of them white folks too, defending us blacks and all. Makes me have faith in life a little.”

Taking the paper, Jill's face lit up to a smile: “I’m impressed. Well, lead the way.”

The man shrugged. “You know…I really hope that guy will be okay. It sucks to be named Alex Shepherd at the moment. I really hope he’s not the one they’re lookin’ for. But then with all the townspeople mad with grief, they won’t really care…”

“Hush, don’t speak that way. All we can do is doing our part on rescuing survivors and hope for the best.” Jill interrupted. “Come on, lead the way.”

“I really hope you’re right. Let’s hurry.” The man, filled with refreshed hope, opened the door to a now grey sky.

It was always a leader’s job to entrust and to give hope, but Jill was very worried for Alex. She would be very upset if anything were to happen to him. He was undoubtedly a man, although a young one. But to Jill, Alex was too good-natured to be hurt by anything. Or rather, nobody would want or even _need_ to hurt such a person, right?

She could still see the scene play where Alex scurried up the stairs when the Deputy hollered at him to go to bed. It was just too cute!

 _Yes,_ Jill thought. _He’s just too adorable for anyone to want to hurt him! **Right**?_

 

*************

 

“Uh….N-ah-! Nnngh!! Gah-” Alex bit his lip. His eyes felt like popping out. He had to get out of this hold. He had to get out.

“That’s it, bitch! That’s it! Cry like a bitch like you are!! And again!! Hahahahaha!!” The man tightened his squeeze in shorter and shorter intervals, leaving less and less time for the increasingly exhausted Alex to recover. He almost kicked himself of the man a few times before, but now the only things Alex could manage were grinding his teeth together and writhing in agony. Alex’s pain only seemed to excite the larger man even more. Looking up and relishing the show that his captive put, he circled both his arms around Alex’s waist and hugged.

Alex’s loud scream turned to a long, voiceless cry as he arched backwards in the man’s crushing hold, hands clawing the muscled shoulders. “Yeah!! Come on, bitch!!! Come on, you son of a bitch! Or Shepherd! Or Sheep!! **Who cares** hahahaha!!”

As the pressure made his eyes water, Alex looked down in his pain, glaring at the man defiantly, too constricted to say “that’s not even funny”. The man's face, as dumb as it looked, was evidently very much enjoying what he's doing. “Ohohohoho don’t make a face like that, boy, you’re making me- AAAAHHHH!!”

This time his foot landed on something that made the man double over. Alex's breath left his lungs when his whole frame hit the ground. He rolled over slightly to see the idiot grabbing his crotch. Alex hissed and slurped in a breath sharply at the sudden pain when he made a wrong turn.

“Owwowowowwwww!!” Big, furry hands clasped in between thighs, leaving the big man staggering around like a kid with a full bladder. Alex tried to push himself up twice but fell flat back on his in chest, the lower half of his body just too numb to respond anymore.

“You’ll pay, bitch!! You’ll pay bad!!!!” The large hulk bawled like a baby in a tantrum. “I’ll tear you up like your mommy!! Damn you…you, you little cowardly little brat you!”

With extreme difficulty, Alex crawled to the nearest wall and supported himself up. “Oww…” he grimaced as a giant jolt of pain from his throbbing spine formed another teardrop in the corner of his eye. Right at that moment, the image of the Deputy flashed across his memory.

_Save him!? Who am I kidding? He’s the one that’s always supporting me!_

_Wheeler……!_

“Who’s Weeler!?”  The now furious man tugged Alex’s hair backwards to face him. Alex gasped. “Your training toilet!? Or your lover, huh!? Huh!?” Alex turned his head away but all that did was making the man pull him closer until he could feel the other’s beard on his forehead. “You son of a…looked what you’ve done to my William!! It’d be a miracle if I could even piss anymore!!” The man’s big hands grabbed at Alex’s jeans by the back and pulled him painfully towards himself for more incoming punishment. Shouting more in gibberish, All Alex could make out was the man yanking his hair and shouting: “I’ll make you suffer…!! I’ll make you pay!! Damn you, DAMN YOU!!”

“Stop it!” Alex cried out, trying hard to maintain his balance against the wall instead of attending to his scalp that threatened to come off its place. “What do you want? Why are you doing this to me!?”

“Why!? You asking me why!?? Heeheeheehahahaha……!” The man held his head and started _laughing_. “You’re more retarded than I thought!!” He threw his head up in the air and continued on his giggling fit as if somone just dumped a fair load of laughing gas on him.

Alex cringed. This was more than just uncomfortable; it was downright disturbing. His mind was screaming for him to run, but his feet were already outrageously lucky that they could still stand, albeit shakily. _Oh God, help me._ He thought. _Just send someone to help me. Anyone would do._ The turn of events was just too fast and too great in just a few days, and now, this.

_I’m just so tired._

“Uh…” A sudden darkness overcame his eyes as he slipped of the wall. His legs gave way and Alex landed on his knees, the freefall shoving the final straw of a force upwards to his injury. Alex succumbed to the pain and collapsed. Panting and vision blurring, Alex’s hand was shaking from the support he tried to give to his body to get up.

A flash of Chris’s image went through his head. It was during Chris’s reaction to his own astonished expression when looking at the agent's biceps. He remembered that Jill saying that he reminded her of Chris's younger self. And how surprised he was to hear that, seeing how different they are, the man's muscles being a start. The newly-met agent was laughing with a slight blush of embarrassment on his cheeks. It was so nice. _Oh Josh…you could’ve been like that. You could’ve._ _I…!_

All he could remember feeling was the anger and deep, deep guilt that overwhelmed him before his vision darkened yet again.

 

*************

 

Chris had never felt his heart drop harder in his life than when the man told him Alex was **the** wanted man. It was a blow coming after blow. The anticipation of activities dying down with Wesker’s death crashed by the outbreak in Florida. The expectation of minor Las Plagas infestation in Blake’s Lake smashed by the reality that people were only acting a similar way with a reason. And the reason turned out to be the very soldier in their group who barely looked like he was ready to take arms to fight. And he left him out there. Alone. Then he got too carried away obtaining information and left Alex susceptible to danger even longer. But why? Why was Alex Shepherd the name of a target out of all of the names out there? And even if the man he’s trying to reach _was_ the Alex they were looking for……Did Alex kill all those children? He remembered Alex needed a psychologist. Could he have…?

But he shook his thoughts away. _Calm down Chris. You’ve got too much imagination today. Even if you don’t trust him, at least go to him as the duty of a soldier to protect another. And even if he’s a murderer, I’ll have to secure his safety until his interrogation._

“Yes, just go to him. It’s my duty. Yes. I have to compensate for my failure to perform my duty to protect by leaving him out there. Yes.” He smacked both his cheeks lightly."Phew. Okay. I'm okay. Right."

_Breathe. Breathe. Alright. Let's go._

He thanked his soldier sense that he was out of that emotional knot, though he knew that it was also his soldier sense that made him apprehensive of what rumours said Alex was. But for the time being, he chose to believe in the unlucky guy.

Chris cursed silently. He wanted to just sprint towards the destination in sight, but whenever he started to run, it seemed to alarm the ever-solemn people walking down the streets.

_I still can’t believe they’re not actually the Las Plagas. They’re so similar…_

Chris really hoped that the black man that in a way incited all this to happen was wrong…or right. If there were really B.O.W. cases here he could just do his business here and leave, if those B.O.W.s would just show up already. If there were none, he could just pack and go to the south…but he knew that his conscience was definitely not going to let him just abandon everything and run off.

Besides, he’s almost arrived at the police station. He couldn’t go back now.

“Sorry, Alex…I’m so sorry…” Chris panted to himself while finally approaching the office door of the police station.

“We'll get to the bottom of this together. Stay safe, Alex!”


	8. Danger

The door and its barricade went down with a simple shove of the shoulder. With a loud thump, the tall bookshelf that was placed behind the door went down like a domino. Chris shrugged. Sure the bookshelf was full of books, but its center of gravity was compromised because of its height. Yet Chris couldn’t help but just take those three short seconds to pat himself on the shoulder for his small victory. He had to admit that the muscles that had grown on him over the time of his bio-military life obviously helped on his one-hit kill on this one; no normal man could have fell the door _plus_ the bookshelf that easily.

_Hey, but that means…_

Chris looked around the premises, hoping in last effort to spot Alex before thinking of the next step; toppled bookshelf, an overturned chair, table with loads of documents...... and loads of dust on them. With the abundance of inanimate objects the it was the total opposite for signs of life. Alex was not in sight.

His foot instinctively moved itself to step past the door and over the bookshelf. _God, how long has it been since there's_ anyone _around here?_ Nothing seemed right here. It was too silent for comfort. But he should look for Wheeler for the time being since he’s in the place now; it would be what Alex would have wanted. Besides, Alex might had arrived at the first place and was the one who put up the barricade.

The place was a mess, and he could swear there’s a bodily stench over the place...like someone who hadn’t taken a shower for a week. He turned a doorknob to the end of the room into a decent office. Well, less than decent now that a lot of papers were scattered on the table and on the floor. He would like to scour the papers for any clue on what the hell was going on in here, but as usual he was to fulfill the task on hand, which was searching for the Deputy. And preferably, Alex, just to complete the package. It was his top priority. But maybe he could take some with him...but _which_? He couldn't possibly take _all_ too...that would be absolutely absurd. It was moments like these that made him want to stop, take a breath and so-called "figure things out", just like any other movie's characters do. Well it _has_ been a while since he had seen a movie, but he assumed that that would be the case from the very few moments he could remember when watching some.

God, from all the tasks he had to do, searching for people is what he preferred the least in the long run. It pents up frustration and eventually desperation in his heart. He hated that. It feels like forever and it dulls his reasoning and locks his body up in fear of the worst.

A rustle. Chris pointed his handgun towards the direction.

A wooden door. Just like any other.

He always hated this part.

A rustle sounded again. Chris held the doorknob, handgun ready on his right. After a moment of silence, Chris slammed it open with a sharp breath. A voice sounded from the end of his gun's barre: “Chris!? Is that you!? Good God!” Chris heaved a sigh of relief as he took in the face of Deputy Wheeler himself.

“Deputy, I’m glad you’re fine.” Chris couldn’t put his hand on the officer's shoulder. The tenseness on each of his joints started to loosen, followed by his mind who repeated nothing but thanks to whatever forces that was out there.

“Yeah, seating myself in the kitchen. Will last me about a week with all these food right here while I figure out a plan. But the Sheriff though…” Wheeler set his sights on the floor. “Let’s just say he didn’t make it.”

“The Sheriff?” Chris stepped into the kitchen and saw a murky pool of blood. It easily struck a conclusion in his brain. _A B.O.W._. In fact, it was most probably that latest strain of virus Wesker had created in his life, where the infected boil and dissolve into thin air in a matter of seconds, leaving behind nothing but a putrid smell and a small evidence of what they once were. Sometimes it was some kind of fleshy goo, some blackened bodily liquid, and this time, blood.

“Poor Francis,” Wheeler shook his head. “Everytime I came here he’d make good bacon for me. Such a good Sheriff too. He’d make his rounds every day ’round this town.”

“What happened here?” with the information he gained from Mr. Phillips, Chris could guess about half of what transpired.

“I had to shoot him, Chris,” the Deputy replied grimly, staring at the man’s ‘remains’. “We were good friends. But I had no idea…”

Wheeler fumbled with the pages, looking back and forth from the journal he was holding to Chris, words stopping at his opened mouth, but closed it instead.

“The moment I came in, he tried to kill me; babbling about killing black to spare the white and that I was the part of the cause of his daughter’s death. Then I found his diary and found out what’s been going on here,” Fiddling with the brown book he was holding, he turned to look at Chris. “He had bright orange eyes. I’m not lying.”

Chris nodded at Wheeler. He glanced at the big splash of blood again. In his head he was calculating. It must be a B.O.W. Type 1 or Type 2 Plagas. Or......

It was not too long ago that they left Wheeler alone, so getting rid of a body in that short time frame shouldn’t be too possible. Furthermore, there was no sign of dragging a body away since there was no trail, only a pool of it. Was Wheeler telling the truth? Seems legit. But it still did not feel right somehow. Maybe he had to see the body himself to believe it?

_Wait!_

Chris shook his thoughts off yet again. “You okay?” Wheeler asked. Rubbing his skull, he looked Wheeler in the eye. “I- I’m fine.” He couldn’t believe what he was just thinking. Did he just suspect Deputy Wheeler!?

“Nice try, young man. But that’ll not work on _me_.” It was the police officer’s turn to have suspicion on Chris. Chris held up his hands: “Whoa, whoa, whoa, sir. Why are you turning on me?”

“Tell me what’s going on.” Wheeler stared attentively at him. “You’re hiding something from me.” Chris’s stomach trembled. He was like Jill who somehow just knows half-formed thoughts from his mind telepathically, only that the Deputy was aiming for the negative ones. “Like what? What am I hiding from you?”

“You know what you’re hidin’, you tell me now, young man.” The Deputy placed his hands on his hips, clearly pushing for an answer.

“You won’t believe me. Or rather- argh,” Chris shook his head in frustration. “Look, I can’t just tell you this out of the blue; this is stupid.”

One corner of the police officer’s lips tugged upwards to form a smile. Chris appreciated how Wheeler almost looked... _understanding_ about it. “Alex said the same thing.” He crossed his arms and leaned his bottom on the desk. “Try me.”

Chris sighed. There’s no getting out of this. “Alright, Deputy. I don’t know if I can trust- Wait, I trust you. How do I put this?” As Wheeler waited, Chris tried to come with a logical response. “Look- these happenings are just too far out from my expectations, okay?” Chris shuffled around the corridor. “And I just feel weird. Maybe I’ve never encountered such a situation before. I…oh God, if only Leon were here.”

“Go on.”

“I’m trying, I'm trying...! Alright. I’ve just obtained information that made Alex come into my suspicion as a serial killer of children dying around here. I can’t bring myself to suspect him, but I am perfectly aware that he’s seeing a psychologist! For a while I couldn't trust you because it felt that you were trying to conceal that from us. And yet I can’t think too much, considering the hellhole we’re in. But either case I feel guilty for not trusting you, okay?”

Looking emphatically at Chris, Wheeler exhaled and nodded: “Don’t worry. A scrambled mind is normal under these situations, even if you’re an experienced soldier. Try to calm down, Chris.”

Chris brushed his hand over his hair. “I’m sorry, Deputy. It’s just that…this town is just makes me……I even started to suspect you, Deputy. I’m sorry.”

“Ah-hah, and that just made things clearer.” The Deputy seemed cheerful in spite of the grim environment. Chris stared with disbelief at Wheeler, who was casually loaded his handgun.

_How did that clear up **anything**?!_

_No it does not,_ Chris was about to say. But before he could mouth it, Wheeler answered it for him, and Chris just couldn't figure out that chill that tingled down his spine when he did.

"Didn't you notice it, Agent? How the town's too damned quiet?" Chris furrowed his brow as he recalled his experience. People just dragging along like lifeless bodies, then the deranged shrieks when everything went to shit. He nodded.

"I have my own suspicions myself on what's going on. I just hope to whatever gods out there that it ain't true."

"Then what is it?" Chris questioned.

The officer shrugged and gave an almost nonchalant sigh. "Well...... a kid-friendly version would be this," And he held out again the brown book that Chris understood to be the late Sheriff's journal. "A few weeks ago, apparently, some men came in obnoxiously demanding to find someone. A certain...... Alex Shepherd." A resounding tired sigh echoed through the kitchen when he said that. "The town an the Sheriff Department here turned them away, thinkin' them gangsters and shit... You know, up to no good."

"Logically." Chris agreed.

"And here he said," Wheeler traced his finger down the underlined sentence. " ' _Shed the black blood and save the white'_ , or _'Sacrifice the tainted, save the innocent'_."

"The Sheriff said that?" Chris's eyes widened.

"No, no. Them strangers who demanded to find Alex did. They warned them with these cryptic shit before they left after, well, as poor late Francis would have, turned them away. Then they started dyin'."

"They what?" Chris asked, surprised.

"The children," The Deputy calmly replied. He fingered through the pages, and Chris could see from the journal, the writings got more and more erratic and eventually turned into barely legible scrawls. "Specifically, _white_ children. There's some Hispanic names in here, but according to the Sheriff, they all looked white." Chris took a glance at the pages when Wheeler thumbed to the next page. All of the next pages are filled to the brim with the same words:

 

**M _Y D_ AUgTH _E_ _r_**

 

"Good God," Chris started sharply and looked away. Chris never imagined that mere words on paper could startle him so much. It was hard and shocking to see someone descending into insanity hitting so close to home. According to Wheeler anyway, this person literally died this fucking day. "You know, for someone who's just fresh out of this mess, you're kind of calm."

"Life does strange things to people, Chris." The Deputy closed the journal, looking away somewhere into the far distance in the cramped kitchen. "It can bring you down to your knees, and it can turn people into the most hardiest of souls." A pause. "I guess poor Francis wasn't strong enough." Immediately after saying that, he rubbed his eyes while vigorously shaking his head, inhaling what Chris almost think sounded like a sob: "And I hate to say that. I really hate to say that, man. He was a strong dude. He always has."

"Let me guess." Chris tried to break the awkwardness. The recent conversation from the man in the mist Phillips came flooding in, corroborating Wheeler and the journal. "After they left the cryptic message, white children started dying in horrible ways, and the townspeople reached a breaking point and took the " gangsters' " weird message seriously."

" _Shed the black blood and save the white,_ " Wheeler repeated. "Kill all damned Negroes on sight." Chris gave him the eye. Wheeler motioned to the late Sheriff's book. "It's what he said. And that's why I barricaded myself in here after reading this while I figure out my next move."

A certain silence spread through the room; the men leaned on their respective kitchen counters with the revelation, as if to say

 

_What now_

 

Then out of the thick silence, the man asked a question that made him jerk in shock.

“That reminds me. Where’s Alex?”

“Alex…he never came……right?” Chris swallowed. That sour sensation of dread spread inside his chest and throat again.

A worried Wheeler shook him by the shoulders. “You left him out there _alone_?! The whole fuckin' town his after his fuckin' ass!!”

“I’m sorry- Look, we found out roughly what's going on and he wanted to go after you so badly, alright? I followed but I couldn’t find him anywhere!” Chris knew that it was not the whole story, but that would do for now.

“We can only hope these townsfolk don't know what Alex looks like yet. God…you must keep looking for him! It’s too risky for me to go out with all those people rampaging like that though…Shit!” The Deputy stomped his foot in frustration.

“Look, Wheeler, you have to get out of here. Shit has gone down right here, and it's already starting to stir outside in the town. If you don't go quick, it's not going to be pretty. The car’s out there, right? You have to go back and get reinforcements and transport to get people out of here.”

Wheeler looked at Chris and gripped his shoulders tight. “Then you must find Alex. You must.”

“Alright, Deputy. Let’s move, shall we?” Chris reassured him. There was no time for emotions anymore. Too much of his time has been wasted on them. Surely, he will find Alex, and he must.

“ _Chris…_ ”

The two men jumped.

“ _Chris? Come in. It’s Jill. Is it safe to talk?_ ”

Chris and Wheeler looked at each other and chuckled. He took out his walkie-talkie. “Yes, Jill. This is Chris. Remind me to use the earphones now that the town's gone to Hell. How’s everything at your end?”

“ _Very good, Chris. We’ve secured the survivors, and we’ve found enough transport and are on our way out. We have to get people in to evacuate the others. But for now, these people will be sent to B.S.A.A.’s emergency department._ ”

“Perfect!” Wheeler applauded before Chris could get a word in. “ _Wheeler? Is that Deputy Wheeler?_ ”

“Yes.”

“ _Where’s Alex?”_

Chris gulped. “…I’m afraid I haven’t found him yet.”

“ _Alright,_ ” Jill’s voice sounded shaky. “ _Listen, Chris. I’ve got something for you. We’ve had survivors who just came in and saw a commotion in Sade Street._ ”

“ _What_ street?” Chris furrowed his brows.

“ _Not the **said** street, it’s **Sade** Street! **S-A-D-E**? Look. I’ve obtained the town’s map and I’m going to send it to you. Just look into it and you'll understand. Deputy, you have to get out now. The situation will be bad if they spot you._ ”

Wheeler sighed, but nodded to Chris. “Okay. The Deputy will leave. You know the police car we came in right? He'll drive in that. Safer that way. That means it’s down to only me then.”

“ _Please hurry, Chris! She said that one of the men had a black T-shirt on. And she said that things were not looking good for him._ ”

“A black T-shir- Right. I’ll get to it immediately. Over and out.” Chris turned to Wheeler. “Deputy.”

“Alright. Get Alex. I’ll never forgive you if he doesn’t come back alive!” Wheeler said sternly before getting the keys to his car.

“Leave this to me. Oh that’s right Deputy,” Chris remembered something. “Can you lend me something?”

"Say it, soldier."

"Handcuffs. Do you have them?"

The Deputy gave him a quizzed look. Chris did not know if it was for asking him if a _police officer_ had god-danged _handcuffs_ or if he was trying to guess what Chris was going to do with it.

"Now that reminds me. What's your radio frequency? Couldn't get in touch with ya'. Holdin' some fancy-ass shit, aren't you? Can we make comms work?"

Chris slapped his forehead, almost with awe at the realization of that mistake.

 _At least we're getting somewhere_ , Chris thought as he began to plan out in his head what must be done.

 

*************

 

Chris’s pants-pocket emitted a beep. He took out his PDA and set it to Silent, and sure enough, Jill sent him the map with the mark where the survivor said the fight was going on. To his delight, the spot was in the route of between the police station and the random house they went into earlier, which Jill also marked for his convenience. Grabbing the PDA with renewed confidence, he whispered his thanks to Jill and headed off to the site where a blessed soul saw Alex. There was no question to the man’s identity.

Chris ran and slowed down when there were townsfolk walking around like lifeless zombies; zombies blinded by grief and despair. In a way, Chris felt sorry for them. Somehow these ‘zombies’ were worse than the ‘real’ zombies he encountered for so long. Real zombies’ existence had a reason – viruses. They were created with a reason – to be sold to destroy. They act the way they do because of a reason – Biological mutations caused by a virus. They were fought because of a reason – The havoc they wreak and the risk of infection. The can be fought because of a reason - They have weak points and strong points. He could defeat these zombies with confidence and a clear conscience, knowing that they were not themselves anymore.

Well, these around him? These are just unpredictable, unprecedented, and just pure scary. There were two lessons here: 1. Sometimes humans are just scarier than monsters. And 2. Fear comes up when there is a void of understanding.

_Heck, if they knew what UFOs really were, no one would be that afraid of them anymore._

Chris had to snicker to himself. How did he come up with _those_ ideas?

He walked through the streets until he came upon Sade Street. He crossed the road and dashed towards the deserted alleyway behind some apartment blocks.

“Alex?!” The breathlessness originating more from his heart than his lungs, Chris scaled his hands along the narrow alleyway as he ran on. Finally, his footsteps came to a stop where the alleyway opened to a wider space.

Finally. He found the man he came to find.

“Ale-” Chris was about to exclaim with joy before the feeling of uneasiness came over him. Alex was lying on the ground; that was expected since the source told him he was at a disadvantage. He was almost a hundred percent sure Alex was alive, because strangely enough, a big burly man which Chris guessed was Alex’s opponent was lying face-first on the ground. And _oh GOD, all the blood...!_

Something’s wrong…

 

**********

 

“ _Jill? Come in._ ”

Jill grabbed the gadget she had been holding tightly for quite some time. “Chris! Jill here. How’s everything?”

“ _Thanks to you, Alex is found._ ”

“Oh…Thank Goodness! It's a miracle that I still have a signal here! Let's try out how far these walkie-talkies can go later, alright? You're it. Back to the news, we’re on halfway out of town and it’ll be about half an hour more until we arrive at Shelley’s. ”

“ _Good. Hey I can’t talk long here though. I need to check out something._ ”

“What!?” Jill almost shouted into the equipment. “Just get him out of that place already, Chris!”

“ _Don’t worry. It’s about Alex anyway. I won’t take long._ ”

“Look-,” Jill groaned with frustration and a hint of worry. “No matter what you do, just get out there quick. We were spotted when still in town and it’s only time before they connect the dots between you and me.”

“ _Really?...Anyway I’ll be careful._ ”

“This is not like you, Chris. Just get out of there quick. Just in case, I’ve sent a map of empty residences due to the evacuation. You can use them as temporary safe houses. Reinforcements may only arrive one or two days later. So be careful.”

“ _Right. Over and out._ ”

“Sounded quite ruffled there, madam. Who dared to shoot at the dove?”

Jill mustered a laugh. “That's sweet.” Clearing her throat, she continued: “It’s nothing. I just hope he gets out quick.”

“You know…” The black man who introduced himself as Oskar during the ride started hesitantly again. “Those weird guys said Alex will be the cause all the children to die in this town if not handed over. And then children _did_ start to die. But I don’t believe he did it, or had anything to do with it. What about you?”

Jill remembered vaguely the Deputy’s mention of Alex needing a psychologist. She always had a clear conscience and a strong heart so she never remember ever seeing one. So when someone needed a mental doctor, Jill immediately imagined the doctor holding zapping equipments instead of a stethoscope and the patient being a rampaging psycho like a serial killer of some sort.

“Um…I really can’t imagine Alex doing something like that.” She could not forget how much Alex looked like a whimpering little dog before finally leaving the random house they barged into.

Oskar, amused, watched Jill’s face as she smiled sheepishly.

“Nope.” She confirmed for her imagination. “Definitely not.”

 

**********

 

“….ey……axe…..”

 

“……me……Alex!”

“Uhh…” Alex groaned. His eyelids felt like a set of weights. He glanced to the sky and saw a familiar face. Or did he see that face before?

“J-Josh?…- AHH!!!” Alex’s guess was cut short by an enormous sharp pain to the lower backbone when Chris turned his torso over.

“What??” Chris grimaced at the pain he unwittingly caused Alex. “You’re hurt too? That’s gonna make things difficult.”

Alex got on his elbows, then his hands and got up while scowling at the pain it brought. “Ah…” Alex breathed in the damp air, sitting on the ground while his hands supported his frame. “Thanks, Chr…”

Before he could finish his sentence, he felt something awfully wrong. His hands were…

“Wh-what?” Alex looked at the standing soldier in confusion while the handcuffs jangled on his wrists.

“I did it.” Chris’s unyielding expression seemed so merciless in Alex’s eyes. “Now don’t make a face like that.” Chris looked away, not daring to face Alex, whose eyes were staring at him like a dejected puppy. He pointed to the big man who was still lying face down on the ground, motionless. “As much as I would like to trust you, you are in suspicion of what you may have done here, among all things.”

“I can’t see.” Alex tried to get a glimpse of the downed man in his seated position. Chris gave him a look and held out his hand to him. Alex caught his hand and got up, but not before stumbling down again. “I-I can’t.”

“So do you want to see it or wh-” Chris halted at Alex’s expression of inarticulate shock. _No way-_ , he thought, as he turned to the back, only to see a man towering over his size, staggering towards him with choked moans.

_He got up!?_

The man’s stare was as glaring as he remembered the Kijujians did. As hard as the man swayed and staggered, his eyes never left Chris. In fact, it burned so hard into him that he found that he couldn’t react; the hate in those eyes simply stunned him.

His eyes were brown. It was not a B.O.W.. _Damn that thought! Move! Move!_ Chris’s foot still rooted to the ground like an oak tree.

Somehow this was different from everything he has ever encountered before.


	9. Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All respective characters unless created by own are property of Capcom or Konami, used on basis of fanwork.
> 
> WARNING: Do not read on if you are appalled by possible depiction on themes of death, depression and explicit abnormal sexual behaviour ('Possible' as this is currently a work-in-progress). Read at your own risk.
> 
> Rating - Mature. Genres: Mystery, Angst, Supernatural, Suspense, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Romance and Tragedy.
> 
> Work may be editted in any point in time, but notifications will be given.

Staying collected when new creatures suddenly charge at your face is not any normal feat (of course), but Chris’ senses had been trained to do just that when it happens.

But a loud cry, a frame knocking past his shoulders and a thump was all that his head could register before a force downed the big man. “Alex?!” Alex, after launching himself to kick the big man in the gut, leaned against Chris’s back while groaning and catching pants of air in between. Chris turned around to properly support the other, but Alex held up his hand. “No, wait.” Before Chris could ask why, a gurgle-like moan answered all the questions he would have wanted to ask. The man had gotten up. Infinite rage seamed to cloud his blank eyes when he set his sights on them.

 

Then, he charged.

With all his might.

He stumbled, but he was still coming fast.

There was no time to lose; Chris’ hand instinctively grabbed hold of-

“H-hey! Let go of me!”

“No.”

“What the-” Chris did NOT expect that man’s grip to be so hard.

“Yous- you…YOU!!” The man shouted…and tripped, landing face-first.

“ _Let. Go. Off. My. Arm!_ ” Chris hissed into Alex’s ear.

“ _Please! Wait!_ ” Alex’s grip tightened on his gun arm, and then loosened it back to just grabbing…just as the big man _growled_ with seething anger, pounding his fist on the ground for support.

“ _Alex_ … _! Let._ ”

“ _Trust. Me._ ”

Chris who wanted to push Alex right off his back to grab his gun by using his other hand stopped. His trusty-old intuition told him to. But in a situation like this?? A sour tinge spread inside his chest like colouring to a clear glass of water. Controlled panic; he’s sure. But…was that… _trust_?

“ _Alex…?_ ”

“ _Yeah._ ”

“ _You are BATSHIT crazy!!_ ”

But as crazy as it sounded, he wanted to give Alex a chance.

“You…you…” Attention was all turned to the big man when he growled yet again when stumbling again. “You……the black blood….” His index finger was pointing towards their direction. “The first-born……you…harbinger of doom!! You..you deserve everything that’s coming to you, you black sheep…”

“ _And you are, too.”_ Chris couldn’t help but mutter at the big man. “ _What are you people even TALKING about-_ ”

“You’re wrong…” replied Alex with a renewed determination, much to Chris’s surprise…and _shock_. “I’m not some kind of-…of _offering_ just because you want me to be. And I may be from the Shepherds, but Hell I’m not going to be shipped to die just because of that! Now fuck off! And tell whomever that you came from the exact same thing!! You'd better leave before I _really_ get mad!!” This content was nothing Chris had known of in the documents, briefing, or introductions. What the _hell_ was going on here??

“Heh. And then you'll do **what**? Charge in with your boyfriend over there? From what I've heard you did in your past and what I'm seeing now? You've grown pathetically soft." He spat and made sure that it was loud. "Either way, you’re screwed, Shepherd. It has come for us, for me,” With an almost threatening glee, he whispered: “and soon, punk, very soon, it’ll come to you at your fucken’ face.”

“What is?!” Alex demanded. Chris jerked. That was the loudest he’s heard him since he’s met him.

The man gave a chuckle. “You’re smart. You know it. If you don’t…Nah, you’ll figure it out. Believe me; you know who’s coming for you. _Think_.”

“What…” A second later, Chris could feel Alex’s legs buckle together. “…No…!”

"Ahhh…” For someone hurt so bad, the big man did really sound pleased. "Looks like you're not so stupid after all, boy."

 _Hmm…Something that big dude’s saying is true then,_ Chris mused.

This investigation had just become more than it turned out to be.

 

“But you’re stupid NOT TO KILL ME WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE!!” The big man roared, half-laughing, half-seething, lunging at them given the opening.

“ALEX!!” He was half-screaming. If adrenaline was supposed to help, it better be now.

But no; the grip on his arm was tougher than ever. “ ** _Damn_** it!!!”

Just as he twisted his other arm around to get hold of his gun, he heard a metal scraping off the floor before it swiped inches away from his face and a wet crunch sounded behind him.

_What?_

Glancing across his back, he found that Alex had apparently gotten a steel pipe somehow _,_ and had struck the man in the head with it. Fortunately for him, Chris had caught sight of Alex losing his balance and caught him before he could fall roughly to the ground. Chris dragged Alex out of the way as the big guy lurched to where they were standing, and with one final croak, crashed down face-first with, Chris noted, an _almost_ comforting thud.

Albeit the big bloody gaping wound at the big man's back, which sprayed blood on impact. And he heard that wet sound when he was moving him and Alex out of the way and wondered what it was. He can't say he's sociopathic from not being fazed from all the blood and such a big slice across the man's back. He's one of the most experienced man in America on bioterrorism-fighting, after all. But even the God or Devil of Hypocrisy (if there was one) would blink at how readily his head's motors were turning at the situation, producing the question: Who caused it?

Who stuck something so big and dragged it so hard that the man is practically like a gutted human fish? The man was breathing, but he was gagging and gurgling. Like a fish out of water.

What caused it?

What could be so big and so powerful that could do such a thing to such a big man? A chainsaw, perhaps?

“Ha-Ahhh!! Oww…”

His attention was turned to the star of the action; a new cry of pain came out of Alex’s mouth with every single area of his back Chris’ hands had pressure on. Realizing that Alex was in pain, he slowly lowered the ailing man on the ground. Alex seemed to have appreciated that because he did not complain and breathed carefully to prepare his landing on the ground. Chris remembered his mother used to do that loud breathing when she was heavily pregnant with Claire. Chris watched as Alex arched his back against the floor, before daring to double up while turning sideways in fear of some kind of pain. Chris stood stunned for a few seconds. Should he thank him or should he not? He was the one who cuffed him up after all. This was more than awkward. He shook that thought off; it was not the time for this. He crouched down beside the man.

“Hey, you okay??”

Chris did not realize how much Alex was worse off than what Chris initially believed it to be, until he laid his hand on his shoulder. Alex’s body was stiff yet shaking, and from the sound of it, it weakened Chris’s knees to recognize the sound of two rows of teeth grinding hard… _very hard_ against each other. That was when the realization came that it was not a simple case of headache or stiff muscles from being out cold; he was really injured. And to think he was assuming something minor like a sprained ankle or something from the mobility he displayed a moment ago. How optimistic of him, eh? If he wasn’t wrong about it, the injury would be…

“AHH!? Stop!! Stop it! Agh! Please!!” Chris’ heart jumped out halfway through his throat. He snatched his hand from Alex’s lower back so fast his elbow buckled. “Ahhh...!!” A teary-eyed Alex rolled around the cement until he came to a stop, lying on his back under Chris. “Why did you do that?? That hurt! Oww….Ow, ow, ow!!!!” The cries of pain began to subside before he started to cough dryly. “OwhgodIthinkI’mgonna _puke_ …” He turned sharply to lie on his back, but not before complaining and groaning again.

Chris jumped.

“Did he…?” and stopped abruptly at his question. The two words cut through any noise in their airspace.

Half-lidded eyes tried to look at him as Alex grimaced with pain: “…W-what…? ...What is it?”

“No. Now’s not the time for this.”

“Time for what?”

“Your flies.”

“M-my…My what?” His neck gave away for a while, and he lifted his head again. Giving up, he laid back and cuffed hands lowered to feel blindly for the zipper. When he realized that it was as Chris had said; he clawed for it and pulled, but it only went halfway and got stuck. Desperate to cover up, he felt for the button, and his heart got panicky when the feeling of a round metal wasn’t there where it should be.

“Damn- That’s not the time for this! And stop looking! That’s rude!!”

“I don’t mean anything by looking,” Chris shrugged his shoulders defensively. “Just- I mean- I _told_ you this was not the time.”

 

“……”

“……”

 

“…Now what?” Alex resumed the conversation with his fingers still fumbling with his pants.

“…we’re going to get out of here, of course. Or stay until evacuation arrives, if we are forced to hide.”

 

“……”

“……”

 

Alex hissed in pain, but he found a painless way of positioning his body, and he sat up.

“I didn’t do it.”

“Says the one who almost killed me by not letting me get my gun,” Interjected Chris directly after he finished his sentence, crossing his arms. He knew Alex was going to say that.

“But I _HAD_ to!”

“‘Had to’ _what_?" He continued Alex’s lamentful exclamation for him while standing up with anger. “Inviting him for a chat when he’s clearly already hostile with no backup around? Please tell me you’re trained better than that. Or did you ‘had to’ create the chance for this guy to maul me to death??” He could almost taste _digust_ in his mouth when Alex looked up at him with wide eyes and kept shaking his head, mouthing the word “no” over and over. He stood up and eyed him knowingly when he shot out again: “Or ‘had to’ keep everything from me so that nothing leaks out? You’re up to something. You’re not as simple as you seem. You’re using us for something, aren’t you? Whatever reason you’re hiding your secrets, I’m gonna find it, Shepherd.”

“ _B-but Agent Redfield!!_ ” Alex's wide-eyed cry ended with a whimper before he drooped his head, devoid of any argument.

Chris narrowed his eyes. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“No. No it's not. I didn't intend to- Please- This is not the time for this-”

“DAMN IT, SHEPHERD!!” The fabric of Alex’s T-shirt ripped when Chris grabbed the collar. Alex’s mouth hung open with a half-choked yelp and he coughed.

Teeth grinded together just as hard as he snapped his eyelids shut. “ _Please_.”

 

“ _…sure it was here?_ ”

“ _…where…?...hurt…_ ”

“ _-heard…Shepherd…somewhere…_ ”

 

There were alien voices nearby. Nothing was wrong about that, except for the fact that they were mentioning **his** name. Alex covered his mouth tightly to suppress his hard breathing. Chris looked around. The voices were faint but Chris could make out about three people’s blubbering voices in a distance away.

Chris lost no time. Positioning one arm behind Alex’s back and another under his thighs, he burrowed his head through Alex’s cuffed hands and lifted him up in a quick huff. Alex shut his eyes and hissed from the pain. He shot a look to Chris, who shot back a stern glance with an equally sharp whisper: “I won’t risk having you choke me if I’m piggybacking.” Alex rolled his eyes and whispered back: “That wasn’t it! That hur-” He gasped from Chris’s sudden striding off away from the place before he could finish. A glance behind the soldier showed the man which he would describe as the Un-gentle Giant, lying on his face in a pool of blood. The big bloody wound at his back made Alex shudder. And he just clobbered him with a pipe after _that_ kind of injury? It was not a good way to die.

“What happened here…?”

It was as if someone pinched his insides when Chris coldly replied: “You tell me that when we get back to safe quarters. Securing you out of the town is my first priority.”

“B-but…” Alex stopped when he found that he actually had nothing to say.

 _  
_ The man was still juggling between breathing and having oozes of red liquid and also bubbly white foam in his breathing orifices. Such sight, such gurgling sounds. Neither one of the leavers wanted to see or hear it again. Alex, for normal reasons, and for Chris, it goes deeper to a slight sadness that the big man (as monstrous as he was) was suffering, and _dying_ most probably, as a **human**. Chris could have taken it with no problems if there were some kind of new God-forsaken strand of virus creature exploded out of him within seconds, but suffering like that with no viral contamination?

  
With the grunts and gags fading away with distance, the guilt was gone at one second, and popped out with amplified echoes at the next, saying: Damn, he should have put a bullet through his head for a damned justified mercy killing.

"...we should have...we should've ended it for him." A voice from yours truly shuddered with his body, most probably fearing any backlash for daring to suggest something so outrageous.

Which is actually coincidentally, and surprisingly enough, not so outrageous to Chris, after all.

"Shut up."

 _Not_ his thoughts exactly. He meant to say something along the lines of he agreed with him. But for now his anger for the betrayal of his trust was flaring.

_Grh...Wesker......_

_  
_ It was still more raw in his system than he would like to realize.

 

*************

 

He cursed internally. He just had to go ahead and say it, hadn't he? But...he couldn't really hold something like that in either. At least the response wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. After all, what could Chris do to him? Drop him to the floor and run off? But of course he would not do that. All he could do now was hold on tighter and move his head closer to the centre of gravity that he was depending his weight on.

He wasn't a fat slob. He did not remember putting on weight either. In fact, he's been ever the same since coming out of the nightmares in that place, maybe even dropped slightly in body weight. But this man was strong. Chris was running with him as luggage. He admired the strength of this man; it was a personificaton of everything he could never become. Chris is a good man, but friendship was out of the question since five minutes ago which seemed like a long time to Alex.

They went quite a distance after exiting the corridors. He heard an opened door being kicked open: “…Don’t worry, we’re almost safe for now.” The voice sounded caring again, as Chris went through the door to an empty house. Alex’s eye twitched. How could he sound so cruel yet so kind later? This was too unfair…It reminded him of the forbidden memory where his parents were kind at (very few) times and yet so cold to him. The pain throbbed worse when he found out that they actually _did_ love him.

“Man, you have a man’s face, but inside, you’re still a kid.” Chris plopped Alex on the bed after carrying him up the stairs. Soft and cool bed sheets soothed his nerves and for once, his back’s pain had a numb sensation to it instead of resembling a razor-sharp glass growing out of his spine. Chris pulled the curtains together while Alex inhaled and exhaled carefully until he got used to the comfort the bed gave. “Oww……H-hey, who’re you calling a kid??”

“You, of course.” Chris replied nonchalantly, while wiping a tear from the corner of Alex’s eye.

“……i-it's from the pain.” Alex forced out an answer. He gave himself a satisfying mental pat on the shoulder for the small defiance. It was mostly true, anyway.

But the silence that ensued was not comfortable. They stared at each other in the semi-dark room, both awkward and surprised by their coincident shut-up. “I-I…” Alex tried to break the ice, but found himself without words yet again. Their escapade had driven all heat of the anger cold, and all suspicions forgotten……for now. He did not want to talk risking digging into any subject that would trigger any scorn from Chris again. He did not want that. Even if the illusory peace would only last a little while, it was fine. Just…don’t bring it up.

"Did you kill those children?"

 

Alex stared. He blinked. Then he stared again.

 

" _What_ , the _fuck_??"

 

To Alex's visible dismay, Chris did not relent.

"Did you kill those children?"

"Fuck _no_ I did not! What the hell makes you think _that!_?"

"Then why are you wanted?" Alex did not reply.

"So you _do_ know you're wanted."

His eye contact was intense, but he did not reply.

"Then what do you have to do with those children?"

Alex did not reply.

 

"Are you the Alex Shepherd they are looking for?"

 

Again, Alex did not reply.

 

Chris stayed just as silent, somehow knowing that this would happen. He proceeded to move towards the bed. He heard Alex swallowing hard when he felt his weight setting beside him. Chris put his hands on Alex's shoulder and waist, and he felt Alex's panic took over when he realized that Chris was turning his body to the side.

“Nonono!! Oh God, Please, NO!”

Realizing what Chris was about to do, Alex’s cuffed hands shot up to push Chris’s face, much to Chris’s annoyance. “Stay still. I need to take care of that back of yours.”

“How can I stay still when you’re going to mess with that kind of pain!?” Alex exclaimed frantically, tears of desperation already forming in his eyes from the dread of the pain Chris would have caused him. Chris looked at Alex’s face for a few seconds and sighed. “You’re not getting away from this. We have to leave soon cause’ they may realize our presence and find us. Besides,” poking lightly at his side muscles and earning a held-back yell from Alex, he continued: “You can shut up about what's going on all you want, but an injury this serious should be treated ASAP. You know that.” Chris kept staring intently at him, waiting for what Alex might suggest.

Alex, getting the message, took the opportunity of the pause to immediately voice his request: “Th-the bathroom. Please let me use the bathroom.” By doing that he may at least delay the inevitable pain by some time, and even avoid soiling himself when it was time to fix his injury.

“The bathroom.” Chris raised a brow questioningly while mulling over possibilities that might result in allowing it. Answering nature’s call is a must, and a shower can soothe the muscles a bit, but……He got up, pulled over a chair and sat in it, crossing his arms. “But how can I know if you won’t try to escape or do anything stupid? I’m going with you.”

“Please, no!!” Not expecting such an answer, Alex became desperate. “I know you're thinking that I'll escape but I just won't, okay?! I also can’t hold it in anymore, just take me in the bathroom and I’ll do my business alone, just please!!” Aside from looking down with embarrassment at Chris’s order, his hands were also firmly pressing down on his bladder. Maybe the critical incident earlier almost literally made him piss his pants. Or maybe it was his lower internal muscles malfunctioning from the crush of the big man. Or maybe he only felt the urgency when his normal senses returned to him after all the adrenaline died down. Either way, he needed to go. And he needed to go fast. And he was NOT going to let someone watch him urinate and defecate.

Chris heaved a sigh. “Alright.” He carried the wounded man the way he did before and made his way into the bathroom. He carefully sat the man on the toilet seat: “Hey, you okay?”

Alex breathed in heavily but steadily at the throbs down his sides. He nodded. He didn’t want to show any hint of dependency just in case Chris would take back his half-fulfilled request and stay to make sure he was alright. “Okay,” Closing the curtained window in the bathroom, he locked it and glanced back to Alex, and one could instantly tell that there was doubt in him. “I’m giving you ten minutes. If I hear any sound that resembles a window opening, I’m going come in here and make sure you don’t try anything funny.”

“Y-yes, sir.” Alex hung his head low as Chris left, crestfallen. His eye twitched with a certain heat when he heard Chris radioing Jill at the other side of the door. _He’s most probably telling her that I’m a killer._ But he didn’t have much time to grieve; he started taking off his spoiled pants on the seat, grinding his teeth with every movement he made.

In his exasperation on him being restrained at a moment, he really hated the fact that Chris couldn’t be more open-minded to things and just arrest him **after** they got out of this damned place. But deep down, he couldn't deny his admiration of Chris for being so dutiful. In a twisted way of thinking, Chris was like his dad - His dad loved his country and family; he would do anything for them. And his dad, in a way, tried so hard to perform his duty of sacrificing him, had to cope by treating him like dirt. Maybe it was even for his own good that his dad had done that; if he hadn’t knew love, how bad could it get if he were really sacrificed? He would not have any attachments to this world. Then everything could have been better off like that. He might even be _glad_ to die if the sacrifice had really happened.

But of course, that was the past, and those thoughts became no more than just imaginative possibilities. Now that Alex had come to terms with the events back at home, he no longer hated his dad as much as he used to. Of course he could not _hate_ the man. Perhaps he never did. Negative feelings rise and wallow up, and still he could not find the heart to hate him, even before he knew what hit his hometown. But sometimes, Alex just had to wonder: How would his life be if his parents actually showed him love and affection before he was to be sacrificed?

Maybe it was better to have lived happy and die young, than to live miserably only to live on while the ones that he cared about died one by one. And just look at him now! Still haunted by memories, being injured that hurt like hell and being blamed for a murder by the one who almost snapped him in half! As if the previous time was not bad enough, the cycle was looped again with Jill unwittingly acted as a substitute for Elle and Chris, Josh.

It was like a broken record playing over and over. They have shaped him according to their own agenda and then they still rejected him even after they have done what they've done to him. They still humiliated him, whether they intended it or not. And they leave. He was always the bad guy. Or the one who bears all these ugly scars of memories and pain that would never disappear. Then someone, or some- _thing_ would always barge into his dreams, just when he was the most alone and vulnerable. It had hit full force with its physical manifestation in his hometown years back. Even when being in such a perplexing situation where he had an injury that hurt more than hell, sitting on a toilet thinking about his miserable life, he still found it hard to believe that what had happened to him throughout his life was real. Was life really worth living?

Alex’s attention shifted to the spare razor blades scattered on the counter beside the sink.

Was life really worth living?

_I've been found out._

Would anyone even think that the life of Alex Shepherd was worth living anymore at this moment in time?

It was a funny thing to think of when using the toilet, but it didn’t matter to him. It hurt, but eventually he finished emptying the wastes from his bowels. He looked around and found a hosed water sprayer attached to the wall just beside him. _Perfect._ Alex mused. _No leaving a mess when Chris comes back._ He took it and used it for its intended purpose; he cleaned himself and even sprayed water further into his rear to clean his insides just for the heck of it. He rested for a while on the toilet seat, but not before finishing up by washing his hands and putting on his pants.

He didn’t know if he was praying to God, or the ‘God’ of his cursed hometown (or that if he was even praying at all); he didn’t know the exact differences, but at least he could distinguish between the two. Some say God helps those who help themselves. He did all he could to stifle the voices, to calm the pain. There was always some kind of force watching him, but they never seemed to reply.

This time, it was the final straw.

Breathing deeply, Alex pushed himself up launched himself to the bathroom counter. He landed rather roughly, but he managed to support himself at the side of the counter by leaning against it. Slowly, but surely, he shifted himself sideways using his arms until his target was at arm’s reach. Alex looked at the big, clear mirror in front of him. _Here’s to my release_ , Alex toasted to himself in his mind as he noticed his face showed a hint of relief. But at the moment when he was reaching for the razors, a thought sparked in his head.

For the first time since forever, the end of his lips trailed upwards to form a smile.

He was going to lock the door.

 


	10. Rocky Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The injured Alex has been transported to an empty house. All seemed well and working out until: Alex suddenly decided to lock himself in - and lock Chris out of the bathroom! What is he doing there?? Why??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All respective characters unless created by own are property of Capcom or Konami, used on basis of fanwork.
> 
> WARNING: Do not read on if you are appalled by possible depiction on themes of death, depression and explicit abnormal sexual behaviour ('Possible' as this is currently a work-in-progress). Read at your own risk.
> 
> Rating - Mature. Genres: Mystery, Angst, Supernatural, Suspense, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Romance and Tragedy.
> 
> Work may be editted in any point in time, but notifications will be given.

Chris closed the door behind him. He sighed. Maybe he was being too harsh on the guy? He hated to be the bad cop. That was one of the reasons he went for military service instead of being a police officer. He took out his walkie-talkie. He needed to contact his partner. He was sure that she would berate him for all these happenings. But he needed to report on the situation.

“Jill? Come in. Are you there? Come in Jill.”

“ _……_ ”

“Jill? Come in, Jill.”

“ _Yes! What’s the update, Chris? “Sorry, fell asleep on the way. What’s up?_ ”

“Look, Jill…There’s something I need to tell you…Can we switch to the cell instead?”

Then Chris told her everything through the phone. About the burly man’s death, how people were looking for Alex, and that the guy was a suspect more than ever with his mental condition and people demanding to get him into their hands, thus he arrested Alex in suspicion that he was one of the causes, if not the only cause of the deaths. He also told her how they were forced to lock themselves into a house because Alex couldn’t even walk moreover escape effectively, with the people already looking for them and all that.

“Chris,” Jill let out a sigh; Chris braced himself. He knew where she was going with this. “Geez. Arresting him and all! Since when was ‘not treating a suspect like a criminal till proven guilty’ a thing of the past?!”

“…Sorry, Jill.” Chris apologized. “I…” He paused. He looked around. Shrugged. Fidgeted. Rubbed his forearm, which was covered in goosebumps. This was crazy, but he be damned if he were to hide this from his long-time partner.

“…I……”

“Chris?”

“Today’s just a bummer. Nothing’s going right, and I swear this town gets into me the longer I’m in here……”

“This…this is just such unlucky chain of events…” A pause. “…Actually I don’t really blame you. At first I thought this was just not my day, but I think it’s the town that gets into my nerves. In fact, this is one of the few times I’ve slipped in a mission. Got us noticed, and I think they are the ones who are looking for you or are on the alert now.”

They both gave a moment of silence.

“I’m sorry. I’m at fault too.”

“……” Chris didn’t know what to say. It was kind of unnerving to have the same experience as Jill had, or place the blame on something else. “No…it’s fine, really. At least we agree on ONE thing – This town’s screwed up. It feels similar, yet it’s different…but I can’t seem to put my finger on it.”

“Yeah…you said it.”

“…er…yeah. Any news on the Deputy?” Changing the subject is better than continuing the current topic, which was…nothing at all.

“Oh, yes! In fact, he’s radioed me to tell me he caught up with us and is at the end of our caravan line.”

“Thank goodness.” Chris sighed with relief. “He encountered a Majini in the police station though. The victim was Francis something. You’ll have to get to the Deputy for details.”

“Right.” Jill noted. “I’ll start the investigation back at the inn. It’s either another case of Los Illuminados or it’s just coincidental that we encountered more than just one problem this time. And by the way, I’ve urged the HQ. They’ll manage an evac for you tomorrow afternoon. I’ll try to get them to come earlier. Please stay safe till then.”

“Thanks, you’re the best. Jill- listen. Don’t tell the Deputy whatever I’ve just told you. Just tell him Alex can’t go back and we’ll wait for reinforcements.”

“I’ll try. I bet he’ll go nuts over the fact that you arrested his boy.”

It kind of surprised them both that they heaved a heavy sigh over the phone at the same time, but strangely, they knew for what reason they have done so.

“At least we’re going somewhere with this, huh?”

“Better talking about this than talking about the town,” Chris could feel her smiling into the receiver. “It makes me feel…uneasy……Like…I’m fighting something I can’t see.”

“Right back at’cha,” Chris smiled.

“…See you, Chris.” Jill said with hesitation.

“Thanks again, and don’t worry, Jill. I’ll be fine.” Chris glanced behind him. “And I’m sure Alex is done now. I’m going to- HOLY…!”

“What’s going on there, Chris?!”

“Shit!! He just locked the door. Call you later, Jill. I’ll make sure he doesn’t escape!”

“Right! Update me!”

Chris pocketed his phone. His gut feeling made him run downstairs to open the side-door at the kitchen to get outside; somehow his instincts told him pounding the bathroom door wouldn’t help, especially when he’s not with a team of officers. Chris got ready to run out to the empty compound to look up at the bathroom window. But he stopped.

_Damn, there’s people looking for us out there!_

Chris calmed down a little and mused over it for a second: Even he wouldn’t risk jumping off the second floor. Not that he can’t though; with a bit of hanging off ledges and you can drop yourself down to the ground safely with few complications. But that guy’s injured, and he’s not faking it.

_What is that kid up to?_

Chris held his hand back from the kitchen door and made sure (again) that it was locked.

“Seriously, I’ll never figure out these guys who’ve lost it!” Chris exclaimed. He was tired of all the Wesker insanity and now he had to face this Alex Shepherd. Alone. He reminded himself to e-mail Josh to ask how’s Sheva doing there in Africa when this is all over. He sure appreciated her company now that he needed to deal with weird people. Wait, Josh? Didn’t Alex say that to him just now? Who’s _his_ Josh?

Chris ran his palm over his eyes and groaned. There’s too much thoughts rushing into his head. _Damn, if only any of my partners were here with me now…_

Chris walked up the stairs, entered into the master bedroom, and paced. _Damn. What do I say? Maybe say something with a mild tone? Maybe I hurt him somehow. Did he eavesdrop too? Thank God I haven’t said anything bad about him on the phone just now. What should I do?_

 Chris knocked on the door and talked as gently as possible: “…Alex? Are you uh…okay?”

When silence answered him, he had an urge to barge the door down like he did with the barricade at the police station. But he chose to be patient with him; he knocked twice again.

“Alex, is everything alright? Are you done yet? Or do you need help? May I c-”

“……you’re so unfair, Chris…” _Finally! An answer!_ Chris rolled his eyes. But immediately after that he found that he had to focus quite hard because Alex’s voice was very soft.

“……why?”

Chris leaned slightly against the door, giving the talk a fair amount of time before replying: “Alex…what do you mean by ‘why’?”

“…why…you’re…so kind, and yet……so cold.” Chris could almost be sure that he heard something. A whimper? A cry? A rock fell on his gut. Somehow this guy just makes him feel guilty. He put his hands on the door.

“…Alex? Alex. You are under suspicion on these deaths and perhaps a B.O.- I mean a Bio-Organic Weapon case. I-It’s a duty to secure the suspect. Anyway…I mean…”

“Ahh……!” Alex howled with such grief that it made something in his pants shrink. “Duty…it’s always duty. Why is it always duty…just like Mom and Dad…you’re no different…Ahh…”

Hesitantly, Chris placed his ears against the heavy wooden door and listened.

For the first time in his life, he heard the weeping of a grown man.

He felt that should be feeling disgusted for putting up with the snivelling of an adult. A whining grown man! But something told him maybe, and an awful lot of maybe, that Alex was not to blame for a single thing he’s suspected to have committed even though the odds and circumstances suggest heavily otherwise. Maybe he should trust Alex…or at least express it. “Alex…I’m sure you didn’t do it.” Besides, he owed Alex for saving him from the big burly man earlier, but that was the only thing he could say. He felt terribly guilty.

“…no…it’s all my fault…”

“No, Alex. It’s not. If you’re innocent, you’ll go free.”

“…free?” He heard a soft chuckle, then it faded to equally soft sniffles and died down. “It’s time.”

“Time for what?” Chris stuck his ear closer to the door. “…Alex?” He almost missed the words that Alex whispered.

“…here’s…to……freedom.”

Something was wrong.

“Alex. Alex!?” Pounding the door with his palm and turning the doorknob with the other hand, Chris’s extensive trainings failed him; he panicked. He was sure. He was so sure this was something very grave. But he just didn’t know where that feeling came from. Before his imagination could take him further, a giant noise rang through the air of Blake’s Lake.

 

**_BWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_ **

****

“ _W-hat_ the FU-!!”

Chris froze. It sounded like a horn blasting without its limits, yet also like a person screaming in a confined space. It was a terrible, terrible sound. So blaringly loud, yet he could swear hearing like thousands of creepy-crawlies were everywhere around him, skittering closer and closer, fast. But the noise! It made his brain vibrate inside his head, if that even made sense at all. The noise literally confused his body. But Chris knew exactly when to strive when time calls for it. People usually freeze at the most crucial of times, don’t they?

“Argh, no time to idle now.” Chris readied his stance and charged towards the heavy wooden door. The door sounded like it came off its hinges but stayed in place. “Damn it! Body, stop shaking damn you!” He went to a distance and ran towards the door again, but this time attacking the door with a kick instead. With a crack, the wood around the doorknob gave way and the doorknob fell to the floor with a clank.

If there was a noise, Chris sincerely hoped that there was some kind of noise, ANY type of noise. A scratch, a thump, or even that siren-like blare will do, because every sound in the world had died down the moment that door came down. Like some force was gleefully playing a malevolent prank to duly inform him that something is going to be terribly wrong. Soon.

Chris panted to his thumping heart. He didn’t want to see what sight awaited him next, but he pressed on. Stepping into the tiled bathroom, he swallowed. He slowly turned his head to the left where the toilet is.

Red. A big puddle of blood.

“Oh, God……” He stepped quickly towards the lying body and knelt down. He picked up the motionless man, which head hung sideways in his arms as he did so, devoid of any resistance. “What have I done…?”

Chris felt the man’s cheeks with his own. He could swear that he had heard the man crying but his cheeks were dry. But more importantly, both colour and heat were draining from his face. Chris glanced down at his cuffed hands; they were both cut with razors that were lying on the floor and the wounds were still weeping with blood…the oh, so fresh blood, shed in the worst way possible. If he didn’t know better, he’d suspect Alex has been using a kitchen knife to chop at his wrists, because that exactly what it looked like to him. Both his thumbs and index fingers were also deeply cut from using those blades. The side of his lower lip bled from him biting on it too hard. He had to wonder if that is why he hadn’t heard him scream at all. Then it came to him; he had been doing that the whole time he was talking to him?? All with a fucking _razor blade_??

_Why did he do something so stupid!?_

“Alex,” He patted on the pale face. He felt him exhale. Oh God. It was hard to believe something cold and so deprived of blood still functioning. Chris’s stomach threatened to recoil for a second but he held it back. He opened the cabinets of the bathroom and found bandages and medical supplies. _Perfect_. Chris carefully lifted one of Alex’s hands and took out his handy first-aid spray. In no time, the blood had stopped flowing off the large red gash. Chris bandaged the other’s wrists while Alex breathed lightly.

“You foolish, foolish man…” Chris sprayed another layer of the spray onto the bandages as Alex’s fingers and eyes flinched to the sting the liquid gave his wounds. Carefully, Chris carried Alex up and laid him on the bed again. The man was cold. Very pale and cold.

“This is bad…” Chris instinctively took off his shirt and took out his combat knife. Cutting and ripping the black T-shirt out of Alex, he untied the jacket that Alex put in his trust and covered it over the owner. “Here you go, buddy...”. He then laid beside Alex, covered the thick bed sheets over them and put his arms carefully around the other. He held him very close, hoping that all that he did would warm Alex even a little from all the blood he had lost.

In mere minutes, Chris felt Alex relaxing and warming up to his body. He felt the other sigh against his skin and snuggle closer to the heat he was offering. Chris smiled with relief. But then his collarbone where Alex’s head was felt damp and warm at the same time. The other’s chest started heaving quicker from a suppressed sob. Chris frowned. Just how much this man had went through to get so screwed up like this?

“Mom……”

 _Huh??_ Chris blushed. How could be in any way resemble a woman!?

“…thanks…Josh……”

Josh again. Chris moved his head to look at Alex’s face, but his nose came right into contact with Alex’s. “!” Chris stayed motionless as Alex moved. _Oops._

“…Not…again…Josh. We can’t…what are…you doing…?”

“…what?” It was then his sensory nerves told his brain that his lips were on the other man’s.

“Josh…Josh…no……please…”

Hearing what Alex said was enough to make Chris squirm his head abruptly out of the way without trying to be careful. _Double oops._

“…please don’t……don’t…tell Dad…”

“I-I’ll do it….don’t tell…don’t…tell……Dad…”

 _What is this guy saying??_ Chris wondered when he almost jumped from the wet sensation on his cheek. _What??_ Chris turned to face the perpetrator, only to find that the tongue that was on his face was now effectively in his mouth and entangling itself with him.

“Guh…! Alex…!” Finally pulling his mouth away, he couldn’t think of anything but to play along. “Alright, Alex! I won’t tell Dad, so stop it already!”

“…thank…you…” There was a half-crying whimper in his voice that Chris really didn’t know how to react to. Finally Alex’s shaking body calmed down until his chest rose and fell steadily in his arms. All he could think to do was to wipe that one teardrop away from the corner of Alex’s eye.

The experience was extremely bizarre for Chris. What just happened? Or more importantly, what kind of family did Alex have?? That display was so screwed up! _“He’s had it pretty hard.”_ What Deputy Wheeler said seemed to echo in his head. Something also stirred inside him, but Chris didn’t know what it was. But whatever roused inside him made his heart drop.

“What the heck,” Chris rubbed them away and continued to warm the weaker man who turned cold quickly whenever he let go. He felt for his cell phone at the counter beside the bed and typed out a short message.

_**Alex weak but stable. Evac better be on time.** _

He sent it to Jill. In no time, there was a reply:

_**Glad. Have & will still urge HQ to comply. Will contact at 6 to confirm.** _

Chris looked at the clock in his cell and found that it was only slightly over 2 o’ clock in the afternoon. He glanced through the closed curtain and saw the grey sky about to rain. Chris groaned. Pulling up the covers over them both, Chris held the frail man tighter. In response, the slumbering Alex put his chilly cuffed hands on Chris’s warm chest. “Very good, Alex. That’s it, just warm up and sleep. When you wake up, you’re gonna explain to me everything. Every single thing.” whispered Chris as he ruffled the man’s hair and took in the aroma; it was not disgusting despite the sweat and other trivialities from going through the day. It smelled like… mild moisture yet with a certain warmth to it that made him smile. Then he remembered. It was almost the same smell of the beddings Alex had personally prepared for them back at the inn.

_That’s nice. Smells like fresh-misted water in the dawning sun._

… _whatever that means._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm struggling with a lot of things, but the storyline is not one of them. It's gonna get rocky. Review if you have anything to say. But other than that? Enjoy, I guess. Thankyou for reading so far.


	11. Vision Tribulation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All respective characters unless created by own are property of Capcom or Konami, used on basis of fanwork.
> 
> WARNING: Do not read on if you are appalled by possible depiction on themes of death, depression and explicit abnormal sexual behaviour ('Possible' as this is currently a work-in-progress). Read at your own risk.
> 
> Rating - Mature. Genres: Mystery, Angst, Supernatural, Suspense, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Romance and Tragedy.
> 
> Work may be editted in any point in time, but notifications will be given.
> 
> Very minor changes has taken place on 27 Dec 2012 for Chapter 9.

“Agent…Agent Redfield…!”

“Hrmm…” Chris grunted and rubbed his eyes. “…what is it?” His groggy eyes shot wide open at a flying Alex. Wait. He wasn’t flying, but more like floating in the air.

“Alex, why are you…” Chris reached out his hand but met a little _clink_ and came to a cold hard stop. Chris felt the space with both of his palms. It was cool and hard. He came to realize that an invisible cold glass surface were separating the two, and Chris could hear bubbling and realized that Alex was in water, but somehow still breathing and talking to him while gliding around.

“Redfield. Listen to me.” Alex looked intently at him while he stopped swimming around. “I know this sounds very stupid, but I need you to hear what I have to say.”

Confused. He was really confused. This must be a hallucination. This must be. How did he get here in the first place? He could see that the man was naked but he didn’t really register seeing his privates. Everything was white. So bright. Chris had his trusty handgun on his hand but somehow he felt that he shouldn’t shoot to break the barrier and held onto it firmly in his right hand.

“Chris?” _Whoosh._ Alex glided to hover in front of him.

“Yeah?” Chris’s mouth dropped open to let out the word. He couldn’t move. Maybe he was too in awe to move? Alex looked so serene. He wasn’t smiling. In fact, Chris didn’t remember he _ever_ did. But he looked at peace. And his usually spiritless eyes were fully opened, not cast down like he always do and was looking straight into Chris’s eyes. In fact, this must be the first time he heard Alex say full sentences without any pauses or unconfident stutters in between.

Angel. The way he just moved reminded him of an angel somehow. Ha. Why was he here in the first place again?

“I always wanted to say...Thankyou, Chris.” Alex held up his right hand to touch the invisible barrier between them. Chris was still stunned. But his left arm was functional and he held it up to connect their palms through the glass wall. “I’m glad I’ve met you and Jill…if only I had met you sooner…” Chris’s mouth was slightly open, unable to say a single word.

“But it’s time to let go,” Alex slowly backed down and laid down floating in mid-water. “Or else, you won’t forgive me…” Alex said something else but Chris could not hear a thing. He only heard the loudening bubbling and sloshing. But somehow his heart was starting to pound with alarm. Alex started to close his eyes while looking at Chris at the corner of his eye. All Chris could do was stare helplessly with his hand on the invisible wall as his eyes began to flow uncontrollably with tears. Somehow inside him he knew Alex was weakening, and dying as Alex’s body arched upwards, mouth opening as the last effort to breathe, like a fish out of water while ironically being in water himself.

Suddenly there was a splash and a few figures entered from the top. They started swimming around gracefully.

Mermaids…? They have fins, no…

No……

 _Oh God._ They were not fins, but two feet fused together. _Oh God._

They started to swim around Alex. Alex’s body was unmoving for a second before starting to convulse violently.

_Get away from him…Get away from him! Why can’t I move or talk!? Damn it!!_

Of the three of the figures circling Alex, one of them swam faster and faster…and charged towards Chris at full speed.

_OH GOD!!!_

It had no face. A large gape slit from top to bottom of the face was filled with sharp teeth where the facial features would be.

That was all he could make out before the “mermaid” clawed at the barrier with a ear-piercing screech.

**_SHRIEK_ **

_What?..._ Chris balanced himself, struggling to stand straight with blurred eyes and a staggered mind.

_Oh…That scream…_

Horrible scream. That scream was horrible. Horrible!! Loud would be a misstatement _and_ an understatement. Was that actually the creature’s voice or was it the sound of rusty metal scratching glass?

He lifted his heavy eyes, and there was Alex, thrashing as one of the creature dove at him and-

_Oh God. This is just like a Piranha movie……_

The next swimming monster lunged at Alex with open arms (and extremely long…metal fingers?), then the next came after the other, then another, and another…Red slits appeared on the man’s body whenever a creature swam away from him. He saw Alex covering his slit upper arm and right abdomen, turning away each time he was slashed as he had no hands left to shield himself with. The damned creatures did not stop. Then came the screams. Sobbing screams that came each time a creature touched the victim. When he dared to look up, the water around Alex was starting to cloud up in red, and he was just unfortunate enough to catch the glimpse of two creatures lunging at Alex’s back and side with their non-existent face while the third one jerked away with blood trailing from its head. One millisecond of it and he saw it all. Seconds turn to minutes, minutes turn to forever.

 _I am not watching this I am_ _NOT_ _watching this! Move, body damn it! MOVE!!!_

Chris prayed frantically in his mind that someone or something would make this short. Save him, kill him; whatever to shorten the time he had to watch Alex suffer.

 _No. This is not happening! No!! How did we get here?! Why is this happening?! Why is he suffering like that?!_ _Why can’t I move?! Why can’t I move?!!_

Scratches lead to slashing. Slashes came to gouging, gouging turned into ripping actual flesh. Crimson spread downwards in front of him; he was too glazed to care, eyes clouded with his state of denial. If those creatures could laugh at his helplessness, they would. As brutal as they were, one of them stayed in mid-water with it’s……sharp metallic fingers stretched out and pointed towards Alex’s back, and then it- oh God, slid almost naturally into Alex’s back when he was jerking back from another slash to his chest. These monsters were not mindless. They know how to torture……And they’re _enjoying_ this.

He thought he was willing his numb body to move when his stomach trembled and his fingers twitched, but his mind told him “NO!” - It was the direct opposite. It was HIM who was fighting NOT to move when his fingers were audibly crackling from the force they were protesting his unconscious efforts to keep them down. It was funny because he did not remember deliberately fighting against his body keep himself from moving; he _wanted_ to move. Now that he had realized that, he did not know _why_. But now he knew that his fingers were itching to curl up since those swimming creatures started to feed. But _why_?? It HAD to have something to do with those creatures. But _what_??

Eyes glued to the grotesque mermaids, his stomach dropped when a chunk of flesh floated away from the shoulder and sunk right in front of him.

_The other one…that other one’s gonna go for his gut…_

_Swish._ Weary eyes closed, the mind and ears fully comprehending and seeing the image in their stead. He peeked. The man inside this…tank was doubling up just as the culprit was swimming away. He knew it was going for that part of him. God, it was even more excruciating to… _sense_ it than to see it. This must be a dream right? Because how were these sensations even possible? He’s not under some kind of drug trip! Unless someone slipped him something. But he knew it wasn’t possible. How long was he going to be made to watch this?? He didn’t want to, but something told him that something very bad will happen if he allowed his disobedient struggling body to move.

Panic rammed at him when one of them swam in front of the squirming human…

_He’s going to…wait, it’s…no!! No!!_

…and dove straight between his legs…

_“AHHHHHHH!!!”_

**_BANG_**  
_**CRASH**_  
 “AHH!!” Chris shot up, breathing desperately in wheezing pants. He…could move??

“Ah…” He ran his hand over his face. Bed. Yes. Bed. No white heavenly surroundings, no invisible tank, no water. Bedroom. Dark as hell. Yes. _Oh……_

His cell phone was vibrating on the counter. Chris jumped, realized what it was and groaned when taking the phone.

“…Hello, Jill?”

“Goodness! What in the world happened? You sound awful. And I’ve called two times before you bothered to pick up too! What’s going on?”

“…uh……Just cut to the quick, Jill. Please.”

“Well, okay. I’ve urged the HQ as promised. Instead of tomorrow, they’ll manage to send in choppers in two hours. I’ve marked your location for them. Just make sure you’re not in some embarrassing position when they come.”

“Really?” Chris sat up, sounding more energetic. “Wait. Come again?”

He could almost see Jill making a face when she repeated her part of the conversation.

“Oh? Oh. Damn, I- Thanks again, Jill. And uh…sorry for earlier. Bad dream.”

“No problem, partner. I agree with getting out the town quicker. It just gives me the chills.”

“Right. Thanks.”

Chris let out a huge sigh of relief. He flipped the switch at the bedside counter and pale white lights lit up. He glanced to Alex, who was awake and looking at him.

“G-Gwhoa!!” He almost fell off the bed in shock, hitting his elbow against the counter. He grabbed the head of bed and how it creaked! He had to push against the counter to pick himself away from the edge of the bed.

“I-I’m sorry.” Alex apologized. Chris was too busy coughing on some saliva that went down the wrong way to respond. Man, somehow even startling the man alone was enough to make him feel guilty. In his opinion, the soldier looks a bit older than his age, and more so with a lot of blood drained off him. Chris felt sorry for the guy for whatever he went through to look so down, but he did not forget to remind himself not to soften at appearances alone.

“It’s fine……How are you feeling?”

I’m just falling off a bed. How are you feeling instead from the grief I caused you?

_No! Bullshit! He’s just weak and stupid, that’s all!_

Alex raised his brows from Chris’s sudden change. “Agent Redfield?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

“Huh? Why’d you ask that?”

“…Nothing. You just looked a bit…different for a second.”

“Different?” Chris barely even remembered what he did to look …different. “If anyone’s needed to be looked at, it’s you.” He palmed Alex’s forehead. Sweaty, pores seemingly opened wide; his skin was basically breathing like a track-worn athlete. He has healed quickly from the spray, but was dehydrating fast because of it. "You okay?"

 “F-Fine…but still a little cold.”

“Oh. Whoops.” Chris plopped back into the covers and slid his arm under Alex’s neck and over his shoulder.

“Hey, what are you doing??”

“Warming you up.” Chris replied honestly. “We’ve been like this the whole time when you were sleeping. Trust me, with the way your pores are all opened up like that, you’ll get sick very quickly if you’re cold.”

“…I’m not cold anymore.”

“Yeah right,” Chris chuckled. “Says the one who’s still shivering. Look, don’t worry. No one’s gonna tease you for being weak.” He took a look at the face Alex was making and chuckled again. That man looked so conflicted and embarrassed! He took another look and he just couldn’t help it – he chortled into a laugh.

“Wh-what are you even laughing at!!” Chris muffled his laughter into the covers between them, Alex’s embarrassed outburst too much to hold back.

“God, oh God, hah-HAhahahah!! Y-you know oh God……You know,” flicking off a tear, he inhaled and exhaled a big gasp of air slowly, although a giggle escaped when he let the air out. “You know, I’m not sure why I laughed, but that was funny. Oh God, what was I going to say? I remember it was something serious, but your reaction kind of caught me off guard.”

“…Right……” The man fidgeted uncomfortably over his arm. “Can you……This is awkward.”

“Yeah,” Chris rested his head on the pillow. “I’ve been in even crazier shit, but nothing beats this one. Think about it: Beautiful, peaceful countryside, coming here expecting an investigation but grown into a full-blown attack……”

"Th-that's not what I mean-"

“…And those were nothing. I’ve been through all of that before.” He waved his right hand, swatting the past experiences away almost like tangible pages of his history in the air. “The most surprising thing of all though, is you.”

The atmosphere died down. Eyes searched Chris’s face for answers. The man was quiet alright, but a gasp escaped his lips when his hands - his cuffed hands were held by Chris’s. When his hands were lifted from under the safety of the blanket, his sight shifted from his hands to Chris, and his chest was starting to heave. Chris sighed. The man looked confused, afraid even. Like his cuffed hands were his privates exposed out in the open for everyone to see.

“I’ve never thought I’d go through this again…” Chris ran his free hand over his own face and sighed. “You…” The grip on the cuffed hands tightened. He could hear gritting of teeth and a nervous swallow of the cuffed man. “You remind me of…someone.” Alex understandingly kept quiet, but loosened up his arms’ muscles just a bit.

“So much has happened, but……I…I really want to trust you, Alex. I-I really do.” He sighed a shaky sigh. “After all of this hell that’s dragged on for a decade…I’m really tired of holding people around me with caution 24/7 anymore. You can shut up all you like about what's going on...... but I really want to trust again. I really want to trust…you.” His eyes cleared out of his paradoxical recollections and found the man staring questioningly at him, making Chris realize that he was telling things that he wasn’t supposed to be telling a person he had snapped handcuffs on. Besides, it was simply a bottle of hurt that should have been kept in the Aisle of Forgotten Memories or the I-Don’t-Give-a-Damn part of his brain, like he promised himself to do.

“Wait, I’ll go get something.” Chris stood up hastily as he put the jacket and covers over Alex and exited the room quickly. He went down the stairs, and as soon as water rushed down into the glass in the kitchen, he exhaled a sigh of relief. Chris was no face-reader like Jill, but he knew enough that Alex’s opened mouth was about to ask the forbidden question; it was a page of the book that he hoped he had actually torn away but the contents were already imprinted into his head, still haunting him.

_Captain……_

He slapped his gloved hand over his breathing orifices, shutting his eyelids hard and tensing up his souring facial muscles, refusing to admit defeat. _Why??_

_Captain……!_

 

*************

 

Soon, the door opened and Chris emerged with a glass of water. Ahh, those eyes again. Looking between him and the glass. What did he expect…poison in the water or something? This man must be a very reserved person who’d rather form conclusions from his own head than duking it out in words, because his eyes were fervently asking questions but his mouth was not. “Hey.”

“Um, yeah. Hey.” Alex responded.

“Here.” Chris gave the glass full with water and handed it to Alex. Alex stared, not yet coming to understanding on Chris’s actions. Chris glanced down at the bandages on Alex’s wrists. He then sat on the side of the bed, took out a few dark-coloured pills from a pack on his belt and lifted them to Alex’s mouth. “Here, take them. You’ll need to sustain yourself with something; it’s a B.S.A.A.-exclusive stuff for long missions and emergencies. The effects are immediate. Hah! Our boys call em’ our ‘instant food’. Even the military don’t have this, you know.” Chris explained proudly. “Here…” he lifted the pills in his cupped hand to Alex’s face. Alex’s eyelid twitched as the handcuff’s chains clinked, pain clearly coming up with every movement he tried to make with his hands. “Don’t force yourself. You’re hurt.” Alex grunted, but took the pills obediently. Chris put the glass to Alex’s lips and he drank. “Alright. A glass is all you get. The pills’ effect will be diluted if you drink too much.” After he put the empty glass away, Chris skilfully turned the man to the side swiftly and pressed on his lower back.

“Nngh…” Alex cringed, surprised. Chris put light pressure at different areas as Alex emitted the same moans. “How is it?”

There was no answer because Alex was too busy biting on the pillow to reply.

“Alex?”

“Ngh-yea?! Oww!”

“Oh boy. I don’t know how to put this nicely, but you’ll have to brace yourself for this, okay?”

“Owh…! Why didn’t you do that when I was not awake?!”

“If I could, I would. But the bleeding on your wrists was so bad I had to spray them to stop you from draining yourself dry. Then like any other drug, I can’t use the spray too often, especially when you’re healing in your sleep.”

“Spray?”

“Yes, a first-aid spray. Heals almost everything very quickly, but it takes up a lot of existing nutrients from your body to repair the damage, so you’ll need a proper diet later. But you can thank yourself for hacking your wrists so badly that you’re so tired now.  I mean how did you even manage to do that with only _razor blades_??

Alex groaned. “Save me the lecture.”

“But I’ve let you eat those brown pills now to instantly replenish whatever it can, because you need to fix your back, and quickly too.”

Alex groaned and lied back on the bed once more, trying to relax. “When?” Was the feeble question Alex croaked brokenly.

“Now.”

“Wait-whawhat?? No-hey-!” His protests were cut off when his body was pushed and in an instant his nose was in the sheets. “Mmph- Wait wait! How can _this_ be fixed by _an agent_ in a _bedroom_?!?”

“You’ll be surprised,” Came the reply, as Alex saw him taking out a fresh syringe from his pack, uncapping the needle, and withdrawing a big amount of clear-yellowish fluid from a glass vial. He tapped the syringe and squirted some air out of it. It was not before Chris pushed a relatively big roll of rolled-up handkerchief into his mouth that Alex started to fidget in panic.

“Weidamingid!! H-hewb!! Ngo!!! Lenge gho!! Ghem you!!”

“It doesn’t matter what you say, Shepherd. You know this is for your own good.” Chris had to get up to the bed sit on the man’s thighs and pin the man’s shoulder blades to the pillow before discharging some of the fluid in the syringe to the injured area on Alex’s side to disinfect it. The cool sensation alarmed Alex very much and he tried to struggle, but Chris was fortunate that Alex’s hands were already double-locked down in front of his stomach by both the cuffs and the weight of their bodies.

“Relax. We have no time. I can’t explain now but this _has_ to be done immediately after taking those pills. I’m sorry, but you’ll thank me later.”

“Ngo!! No you ghasdardD-AAAAAAAAGHHH!!!”

Chris personally was never injected with this before, but he’s seen others being administered this. The only difference was that they were unconscious, so this improvisation of injecting the medication into the injury before the replenishment pills were used up inside the man’s system was better than nothing. If that injury wasn’t treated, it would end up being inflamed deep under his skin…not if he was there to stop that from getting worse, that is.

It worked. It was amazing how science has advanced so fast nowadays. When the fluid was injected into the injury, immediately a healthier hue of red bruising spread from beneath the skin to replace the deep purple-and-brown patch. Smashed blotches of what remained of his veins were starting to re-form again. The man’s screams of agony beneath him echoed in the room even with the cloth in his mouth. But in every good comes the necessary evil most of the time. If the injury patched up that fast, imagine what the pain would be like. Must have been like searing iron. No painkillers, and the still-healing tissue was going to feel very sore and raw, but this was better than no treatment at all. Much better.

Chris moved away from the body. “You okay?” He patted the man in the neck. He was sweating and moaning a lot, albeit weakly. He took out the now-wet cloth from his mouth and repeated his question. “Hey, you alright?”

Alex breathed hard: “…f…fuck you.”

Chris had to chuckle. Thank God it worked.

 

*************

 

“Nn…ah… oh-howw…”

Alex was still groaning and hissed in air sharply a couple of times with his hurt side up from whatever kind of pain he was in. Even though he’d been going around doing random things trying to distract himself, Chris still felt a bit guilty for it nevertheless.

“Hey…I know it hurts like a bitch, but it’s really healed up quite well. It’s pretty raw now, though. Don’t move too much.”

Alex hissed from his pain again, but replied with much effort: “I know……Thanks.”

“Hey, no problem,” Chris patted on his trusty white jacket to look for his handgun. “I almost forgot…someone will pick us up in about two hours. So you can just rest-”

“You’re so stupid, you know.”

“Huh?” Looking up, Chris stared at Alex while holding his handgun, forgetting what he was about to do with it.

He saw Alex was looking at his once bloodied wrists, emanating the words _you should have left me to die_ , but still thanking the other with a rebellious hint.

“Don’t do that again, Alex.” Chris broke the silence. “I truly believe…in the end, everything will turn out fine. Just don’t give up in the middle of it.” He wore his shirt and went back into the covers to contribute some heat to the injured man.

“Hmph. You sound like a single-minded super hero.” He said that, but he was thankful, shown by the way he leaned in on the heat Chris was offering.

“Why am I always being called the single-minded one?” Chris pouted. “I’m not no brains and all brawn, you know.”

“Well why don’t you take the superhero word in the sentence as a compliment then? That proves that you _are_ single-minded.”

“…Then why did you try something so stupid when there’s hope that you’re innocent?” Chris held up Alex’s bandaged wrist as both hands went up with the cuffs.

“……” Stunned from Chris’s unexpected conduct and arresting words, Alex couldn’t reply. He found that Chris was looking intently at him with empathy in his eyes. “I…” Alex glanced away without finishing, face red. “You…you won’t understand.”

“Look, I don’t know what reason you have,” Chris rested his hand on Alex’s jacket-draped shoulder. “But you’ve thrown away your safety for the sake of your country once; don’t you have all the right to value your life now?”

Immediately after hearing that, Alex turned his head to the side and snorted, with almost pure certainty when he said: “Hmph…How could I…My existence only brings death and destruction. It’s a curse……”

Chris felt something pinch his heart. Seeing him using vocabulary like that was unnerving. And how could he _say_ something like that? He supposed that that kind of reply wasn’t that surprising since someone here was seeing a psychologist, but to be actually seeing a man effortlessly disregard his own life like that in front of him was just sad. After him giving those encouraging words to Alex, it then came to him that Alex’s psychological help made sense if coupled with his military experience. Many soldiers couldn’t handle the memories of their military lives and went down to depths of depression, if not madness. It all kind of made sense. A lot, actually.

Oh God, had he just misunderstood the guy so much that he arrested him? But what’s done is done, and the things that were happening didn’t exactly paint Alex in snowy-white either.

“Alex,” Chris shook his shoulder firmly to make Alex look at him. “Soldiers fight for their country. And that includes fighting for themselves when they’re _not_ on the battlefield.” Chris shook Alex slightly. “Trust me, if you’re really innocent here, I’ll make sure no one will say otherwise anymore. I’ll fight for it.”

“…Wheeler mentioned a lot about you…” Alex said after a bit of hesitation. There was a glad tone in his voice. “He said you’re one of the organization’s founders. Now I can see why he called you a real fighter, huh.”

Chris felt a sense of relief washing over him; Alex sounded like he had more strength in his spirit now. Chris patted his shoulder: “You’re not that bad yourself. You really saved me from that big guy back there, with your injury and all……um…ah…”

 _That kind of injury……_ He felt ripped tissue and displaced muscle on the soldier’s back. Yeah, allowing the guy to do his business in the toilet first was a better option, because there would be no holding back when the improvised treatment starts and he would have ripped his bowels if he were holding some excretions back while Chris worked. But who would have guessed when he was allowed into the bathroom, Alex would……Ahhh, he was still angry at himself that he let Alex go out alone to the streets. If he had not done that, none of this would have happened in the first place.

“Uh…thanks……I mean. Even with all this…development and all……You are a true soldier.”

“…Thanks, I guess…” Alex shrugged. “…I’m not a real soldier like _you_ , but I guess the mind does wonderful things.” Did he blush too? Wow. Someone’s never been praised before here. Chris was sure that his own face felt puffy too. It was awkward to thank a guy he suspected, arrested, and even kind of drove to suicide, but at least Chris was honest about his thanks. He was just relieved that he could express his thoughts correctly for once.

“Oh, come on.” Chris laughed. “You’re so humble it hurts.”

“……” Slowly, Alex nudged himself off Chris and sat up.

“Hey, you okay?” Worried, Chris sat up as well.

“Yeah.” Alex supported himself by pushing against the bed with his hands. He looked into Chris’s eyes intently for a moment before sitting up and looking down. To Chris, yet again those eyes caught him in a seizing hold. That look was all-telling that Alex was mulling over, almost with every fibre of his being, on whether he was going to tell whatever he was going to tell him. Whatever it was, Chris was ready beyond anything to hear what he had to say.

“What is it?” He draped Alex’s old jacket over his back and shoulders and sat back, waiting for him to spill it.

“I need to tell you something...it’s about the children’s murders around here. It’s-……no,” He fidgeted in uncertainty. “…you won’t understand.”

Chris held both of Alex’s shoulders firmly. “What don’t I understand? Hey, look at me.” The other man did not. Instead, he shut his eyes tightly, as if the first thing he’ll see when he opened them were the last. “Come on, I’m begging you here. I really want to trust you- no, I mean I _do_ , but you can’t keep doing this.”

Alex’s eyelids squeezed shut even tighter than before, and as if he had came to terms with something, his shut eyes relaxed as a long deep sigh was released. The two stayed there wordless, the only audible noise was the handcuffs jangling and Alex steadying his nervous breathing.

Alex’s trembling lips parted.

“…I’ll turn myself in.”


End file.
